Kurt Schneider Poems

Flightless mincemeat waiting for the kill,


by farmers plow,
...

I will find you,


beyond the pillars of time,
...

If I found you growing wild,

should I pick you?
...

If fools could speak of geometry,
you would be the right angle,
while me, obtuse,
I find light in the darkest places,
...

The untraveled forest lonesome,

Roads wind through your heart and back,
...