High School English

Byron escorted from the pages,

ambulance siren falling away

                                    through the frost window.

Peer at the clock, alter your route home—long poem.

What carries you, a lonely ascent

for which the objective’s clear: regard both time and reason.

The streets pole toward hue and cry,

                                    the trek becomes infinite.

Better to mean what you say than to say what you mean.

Conceal your syntax, bid no explanations.




Tomorrow’s a standard deviation.

Where we live, the weight of which


depends on small silences

we fit ourselves into.


-published in Tidal Basin Review - Spring 2011

More Sample Poems

"Birth of a Clinched Fist" and "Legend of a Full Fist"

"Passport to Brooklyn"

Small Axe: sx salon
"The Ethereal Hour Elegy"