Wielded
like a
loaded gun
His phone
was thrusted
forth

Proof
of what
I knew
was false
Refusing
all
discourse

Armed
with but
an empty
tweet
Chosen
by a
bot

His mind
was trapped
inside a myth
Whose fiction
dearly
— bought

(Rosemont College: April, 2025)

Poetic trattoria  
a feast for the eyes
Visionary smorgasbord
of what — and then why

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

You can’t make a deal
with a Judas
As tenured
they govern on high

Like the British
who sought our indenture
With graft and self-interest
they lie

You can’t play the game
any longer
When rules only favor
the few

Where freedom is held
as a hostage
And verity’s fairness
— askew

(The New Room: March, 2025)

We often reach the future
by sailing in the past

Our course in life a distant breeze
— that steps tomorrows mast

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Don’t tell
me
what I
already know

Don’t give
me
what I
already have

Don’t take
me
where I’ve
already been

Don’t play
me
what I’ve
already heard

Dissuading
moments
when left
unbound

Preempt
the silence
a devil’s
sound

But deep
inside
satanic
winds

A Savior
whispers
beyond
— the din

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Why are you
waiting
your house
is burning
Run while
you can
from the blaze
inside

What will
be left
in the morning
after
But naked
ashes
and tears
— uncried

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Shepherds
of echo  
sirens
that call
Masters
of legend
trapped
in the Fall

Moonlight
on ice fields
whispering
still
Voices
stay buried
destiny’s
will

Sunlight
awakens
mountains
that sigh
Hidden on
summits
new answers
there hide

But with
every Spring
a melting
ensues
Flowing
life’s message
recalled
— and renewed

(Memories Of Absaroka: May, 1997)