In dim coolness, underground,
punctuated by the dropp and whine of the elevator
I cut open boxes and stock tomorrow’s shelves.
...
We will know and remember with
the inferno in our hearts,
the day a devil’s passport was stamped:
“Return to sender.”
...
Fifty generations of moles contracted business
amid this grassy wood. Turreted trees provided all needs,
an easy Eden shingled green to lighten heavy
Junes with dew threading silver
...
“It is also well known within the nuclear power industry, that minor accidents occur on a regular basis due to human error or purposeful sabotage.”___ Kevin Briggs, Director, U.S. Disaster Preparedness Institute,2001.
Complacency is its trigger. “Clean” its alias. Money its game.
...
Sit down little one, and I’ll tell you a story, just
hand over my deck of wicked stepmothers scary,
spells, curses, schemes, and no-money-down deals from
ordinary folks who embezzle the poor and unfortunate.
...
A building built like a blockhouse is
my office. Air-conditioned. Climate controlled.
No number on the door.
Of course. No one knows where
...
Dusk, an evening star...
firefly in the garden,
July moon rising.
...
Crackle of sun stranded
in blue glass she waits in that
white house so old
her breath haunts the cold
...
Warm the petaled sun
budding from each winter breath
a crocus of light.
...
Gold of sunrise
green leaves gilded by frost, and
pumpkins like money.
...