Category: Prose
Daisy, Daisy, I’m so crazy
Early morning silence is not like other parts of the day. They say in space there is no sound just deathly silence one hundred percent pure like drinking a river from its source. Crystal clear without contamination. I lived up in the high country. I would rise around the time of this writing, open my […]
My child’s ghost
The soul is the home of my innocent child yet fully formed alive with wonder , everything is magical, the morning, the day , the night. That first train ride, the first taste of ice cream, everything shining in its newness. One night , thirty one years ago, I was resting on my bed, not […]
Altered States
I was an old dog chasing a beautiful young dove. She had Frida Kahlo bloodlines, mine were disjointed, part Scottish, Jewish, part crazy bastard. She was a writer . She wanted to be another Pessoa. I could dig that. She was a shaman . They have a word for it over there but I’ve forgotten. […]
Quirky
I rattled off poems in Cafe Bazzare feeling wacked out on one too many beers I was somewhere on California Street San Francisco in a bar before the read. Boys were playing pool and baseball was being played out on the big screen, the 49’s against someone or other. A woman of my vintage was […]
Shakyamuni and the rabbit
A melon rose sits regally alongside Shakyamuni Buddha. A black spider sits by the window. Should I stamp out this beings life for some unknown fear that rises within me? Outside I can hear birds and my alarm clock. I long for sleep and solitude. At the bus stop a young Rasta haired man talks […]
BillyPilgrim 