Wednesday, April 9, 2014


Where is the sprocket in a poem and what is being moved forward?  Letters as teeth.  Every poem is tastable.  

Of course, garlic is the sprocket that moves taste forward.

There you have it -- poetry, garlic, and sprocket.  Who knew?

1 comment:

  1. & in the country air a certain lazy horizon
    where people walk through
    all the poems I've ever written

    the sound of the water on rocks before bedtime