Tag Archives: Minneapolis

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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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn 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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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

Blanks

The public safety building skyway has nothing in its display case. No hint of what got abandoned, what could become enclosed in glass. She could start over. Wind her way through 7+ miles of second floor passageways. Could comment on … Continue reading

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Filed under Afternoon Poems

Channels

This is no Big Sur, Dingle Peninsula, Wasque— this is somewhere in the middle. A river that has starred as the main character in novels, caused cities to be built, become a final stop for the tormented and despairing. It … Continue reading

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Filed under Day Poems

Where’s the Frozen River?

I sit beneath a painting of Kerouac in thick shades of gray and try to digest the fact that I am older than he will ever be. I should be so privileged to pass Emily and Virginia. I’ll prefer mine … Continue reading

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Filed under Morning Poems

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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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

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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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

Latitudes Off Kilter

Close enough is never enough to align your hips with my waist no matter how long I ride this train going south. I overshoot the dream by a zone or two. It’s up to me to make adjustments. In your … Continue reading

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Filed under Morning Poems, Overnight Poems

Dear Miss

The poetry’s in the unconsummation and this latitude we almost finally share.

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Filed under Morning Poems

Realia

It smells ripe today—the river. Hope its wreaking havoc is done by the time those waters flow over your bed, against your banks, under other bridges sturdy so far.

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Filed under Afternoon Poems