Some Poems:

Grandma Gave Me a Slice of Hot Banana Pepper

Learning, or trying
to read her twinkle
of mischief
as a soft crisp
yellow slice
of hot pepper
offered
like a treat
cool and hot
at once on the tongue
confusion for me
tears of laughter for her


Dull Hammers

Her words dull hammers
of an unhappy life
Unhappy childhood
of hateful parents
with broken spirits
the dull hammer
with which she writes
her one note poetry
over and over and over


Understanding

Once in a dream I heard
through the fog of waking
people in another room
speaking English
but it was not my tongue
and meant nothing
to me
the pleasant chatter
of friends discussing
without meaning


Buried

 My childhood bicycle
was buried all but a piece
of one wheel
in the red clay dirt
full of round red gravel
in the vanished pine woods
near the house
where I did not have
a bicycle