Robert Combs Biography

thru the ancient window
a fine spun blower's window pane
above the carrion winter courtyard
where my angels have gathered
...

I saw you
standing on the edge of the harbor
waiting for the ship
coming into sight
...

go insane
a game
I learned to play
...

awake
day 13
alone in the cold calm
of the purple desert
...

my hands once strong and agile
lie quietly in my lap
soft and fragile
where I once had hair
...