Monday, April 22, 2013

Spell Checker

New rule.
You are what you hear;
bottle nosed whale slide blues,
mint and fern whipping the air,

to turn your head

the voice of the Shepherd
whistling through His teeth.

Facts and faith, a jumble
of Scrabble letters face down,
we need to spell ourselves.

It's possible to have the Christ
in ways unbelievable to believers,
but to believe He has us,
that's worth baking bread.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Frequent Flyer

When I say I use tools,
I mean toothpicks
and spoons,
a cashmere shoulder
is all I hold of Manhattan. 

Kicking from the deep end
I pool svelte talent
blink, when
eye contact
stabs the heart.

What if the lonely lied
and it's better this way;
whispering on a bus line,
watching napkins float on the river,
retrieving songs the park birds scatter?

Somewhere the Christ
is cornering the market
on cardboard mansions,
and I make my living
handing out flyers
for the tour.