How Deeply Should One Read? — ****************************************************************** Dear Robbin, I hear what you have to say — and you have more to say than pretty much all of my first-year students put together. I am just a little confused. Your notion that any viewable flaw in a person is just the ice-berg of a frozen underwater…

Prose Poetry — It’s night time, and they’re nosy, or was it hyper-loud, at the table right in front of you, banter it travels, travels and tickles the nose. Who told them, or was it taught them, how to be so bold, how to kiss the spirit of the age, right on its hairy…

A Prose Poem — She’s got dreams up her nose, in her eardrums, on the bedroom. There are people saying wrong things, there are teachers at the store. Men in Flackish jackets storm the barnlets, eat the chickens. Some who push the mower jank their jillies, dodging holes. The addicts do their homework, the choir watch…

A Prose Poem — aimlessly wander, pick at the memories, pick up the shale pieces, rise like old tide. collect what the water shares, spit out the salt beads, shake off the sticky life, hear for your wise ones smile at the crab things which hide under sandblots, dig deep those toes, which have walked where…

Prose poem — She won’t tell you what she’s thinking — stop asking. She’s not the same as the girl you left on that soft-shellacked shelf. She’s been doing her own thinking. A whole lot of sunshine on a snowcone. Plenty of badges to assign to things that are melting all over the…