“THE untold want by life and land ne'er granted, Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find.”  Walt Whitman  In the way  piano plays in an empty room, trains hold commuters  as travelling hearts in skin baggage, poetry passports are open to declare  Steel...

By harvest moon,  the demons came With sacks and knives, their lust profane Choosing all the golden best They tore them from their beds of rest Scarecrow dared not make a sound And hugged his post set in the ground Of the crime, he'd never...

Before We Die before we die, we must be sure to read the book of longing .. maybe together under an ancient yet still white foaming quilt and with a rogue bough tapping against our well steamed up bedroom window .. for I know that you...