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Friday, May 17, 2013


Wyeth- Herons in Summer
Wulfing - illutration for The Littlest Mermaid
Wolfing - flowers

This is the title poem from my 1982 collection Cruisin' At The Limit published by Duck down Press in Fallon, NV.  Kirk Robertson put together an excellent selection of my work from 1968-1978.  The book is long out of print.


Glowing after midnight,
I thought there were demons
in the room and that shape
kept twisting and turning
adopting the vajra weapons
as points of light and out
rageous greens.  White
ring around each eye the
white of the eye black the
black white and seeing all 
too well.

I stayed in bed late half
expecting she would come over
early and knowing she would not.
When she got here she was nice.
I was nice too.  My words sounded
like they had been canned years ago.
I listened to how it sounded.   Fourths
skinning into each other, up scales,
down scales.  I worked in the yard
pruning roses.  Red light danced
around her skin.

The clutch is slippin’
and the wheel’s dancing out
 of control.  the iodine’s on
the table, the grid has caught
afire, the rest is after midnight
, comes roaring through the soul.

The forward motion bottoms out.
The lower chakras turn into traffic
lights.  Cars find it easier to
keep going. The comments get thick.
Yama slides through with his landing
lights on.  i light some incense
and go to sleep.  The coast looks great.

from Cruisin’ at the Limit, 1982
Duck Dwon Press, Fallon, NV

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