Duane Robert Pierson Poems

A girl in a summer dress
turns hot into cool,
sweat into sweet,
steam to chilled mist.
...

A river flows through this country
seen only by the cynical eye of the excluded sane,
a stream of cultural sewage glittering like ersatz gems
sending ripples of scented acid lapping at citizen souls,
...

You should apologize.
Get down on your knees and plead,
but your apology will be worthless,
like expectorant into a sewer.
...

With corn ripe golden hair
she bestrode the harvest
before the black frost set in,
smiling gently and triumphal
...

A ballet of autumn leaves.
They danced upon the road
with colors in full array,
standing and swaying
...

Cornsilk
Soft, oh so very soft
as gentle to the touch
as a warm breeze
...

A checkmark in the sky.
A skein of waterfowl
laboriously moves to warmth,
drawing behind a gray curtain
...

Working the farmers’ market.
Soap her earthy cosmetic,
clean country air for perfume,
pheromones fueling ardor’s fire.
...

It happened exactly at
M-Millennium
Y-Year
M-Month
...

Not to be held in contempt because I knew.
God we all know of this worse than hell,
Darfur where the Janjaweed militia ride, killing
maiming, torturing, and raping with impunity.
...