On my way to Oxford
Mass at Westminster Abbey
The priest in his lovely
British accent
Softly falling on
my American ears:

The way this city is set up
Much that is truly sacred,
Especially among the poor
And the immigrants,
The City does not hold dear

Therefore, for them:

The Lord is my light and my salvation
Whom then shall I fear?

Love for women
But as they are

Still fantasies
Follow that star

Beauty beckons
Near and far

Like lingering love
From a long lost car

Pax vobiscum
Wherever you are

We know we are going to die
Which shadows all are days

And we know we have the Trumpfucks
And their foolish ways

But the sun shines forth again
Leonard Cohen in London plays

Forget about Bobby Knight
Forget about Woody Hayes

But remember my coach Brian Katz
Who in Sacramento stays

He taught me to write in 7th grade
And gratefully I now prays.

Emily Dickinson
Almost totally unknown
Outside of Amherst
In her lifetime

Solitude in Massachusetts snow
An unknown individual though

Like Vincent Van Gogh

Soren Kierkegaard
Unknown outside of Denmark
For 70 years after his death...


         patience, Knight of Faith, patience.

Lorca Cohen
London Knowin'
       Lillies

Basketball in nightdark
Black brothers do appear

Wandering the campus
Peaceful without fear

Newman Center stop
Summer insects I hear

Chapel of the Cross
silence. stag. sincere.

Resting in the grass
One dear deer.