It is not the sturdy
wooden beams
that raise
the house
aloft
that I study
but instead
the rotting
wooden plank
still dark
and wet
that has
washed ashore
alone
that will hold
my attention
forever

It is not the sturdy
wooden beams
that raise
the house
aloft
that I study
but instead
the rotting
wooden plank
still dark
and wet
that has
washed ashore
alone
that will hold
my attention
forever


Mosquitos made their home in the knees of cypress trees casting shade over the chalet, on the lakeshore. Water ripples with the whisper of their […]

I have no strategyfor when I open my mouth.I’m just a lucky fucker. Darren C. Demaree Darren’s poems have appeared, or are scheduled to appear […]

They were on the fishing boat’s fantail,and he was having difficultylighting his cigarette in the sea breeze. Remember the scene? She opened her coat for […]