Tag Archives: news


Even a rattlesnake 
knows when to retreat—
half-a-dozen quick
at his mental fingertips.
Who wants to know
the latest detail
of the same old news,
only to recognize ourselves
in Chekhov’s mirror?
Soap opera or box,
all the bad actors
stage left and right
look like possums
in the headlights.
Weary-washed with waves
of news, a man could drown
and sink to the bottom—
but even a rattlesnake
knows how to swim.





Clouds cling low,
I tend the fire:
stir red coals—dry
branch of manzanita
alongside oak,
crack of air
to the woodstove—

play solitaire
and wait for words
that hide behind
naked sycamores
along the creek
too deep to cross,

the flood of news
too much
for pleasant poetry.



Even now, the news glides like manes
and tails over me to pass beneath the sun—
sometimes precursors to a good rain,

a dark storm, but mostly mean nothing
to horses and cows, to the bobcat planted
at the outskirts of Squirrel Town, haunches

frozen in the filtered light. There was a time
I yearned to find my legs elsewhere, test
the edge and taste the wild among the crowd,

lust in love and make news of my own.
But born in the sticks, more like a coyote
than a house dog, I crave the space to grow

gray within my nature, stay to the canyon
and let the headlines pass like one more
empty cloud and save my howling for the moon.