Category Archives: Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

No More Hints

Strong evidence of tobacco use on the corner outside the library. I should know. Have checked out for five all but one year of my life in this town. A red Q on this book cover is no longer a … Continue reading

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Seen Through Fog

There’s a story behind Staten Island Ferry orange. I can’t tell it but can hear its tone revealed in a soothing voice- over through early morning fog. Routine commuting becomes heightened by the transcendent moments before the marathon begins on the … Continue reading

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Filed under Afternoon Poems, Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems, Day Poems, Morning Poems, Night Poems, Overnight Poems

Pace Off

The mayor declares no more skyways. Till what? We learn how to design the perfect compass for indoor air? Now that I know my way around up there after two decades, I will not give them up. A hybrid walk … Continue reading

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Clement

No more talking about the weather, a giant dragonfly dangles from the ceiling inside a giant library. Her services are no longer needed. Justice will prevail or fail without her. It’s January— other topics can be scarce.

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REM Kiosk

A dream is only as true as its recounting. Insert stalks of wheatgrass embedded in translucent partitions for accent. An ocean spilling forth on all sides gets pulled inside out to become a Midwestern lake not frozen enough to hold … Continue reading

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Surreal Ocean

Tide rises from all sides—this surround won’t bring back my father’s words of advice. In a dream, I refuse to walk along the granite bluff with my sisters—this is no return to Ireland. This is what gets made up before … Continue reading

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Downtown Serenity Hour

Today’s investigation, a brand new skyway smells like a new car with music seeping through its air vents. It takes me through a different artery in the maze. Roots grow to the first floor becomes a pink lit W Hotel … Continue reading

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They Call It Prohibition

I dream of sipping espresso from a tiny ceramic cup in a hotel bar high above the streets and skyway. And I tower over a city that dreams bigger than it looks. They call it Prohibition—it’s not illegal for an … Continue reading

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Electrocution

To blame a rodent for this disruption, this return to the primitive, is what I do when singed mystery holds no appeal. What about a snake or hawk? Could be human error—and into its portal the soul just might come … Continue reading

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Power Out Wednesday

A transformer explodes, a squirrel dies, civil twilight crashes into darkness faster than my fingers can touch the right digits for relief. To open this book of scents written by a left hand to a stranger is exposure I might … Continue reading

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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems