overcast the drab koi swims alone
w. f. owen
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Recent publications from Frogpond Vol. 33, Number 1, Winter 2010:
in the half-light of morning
here in Hawaii in a room which really was a garage cleaned up just enough to be livable i survey the aches from the previous long day of diving for a living and it was a good job though no health insurance or even surety of a next meal i peer out to the tatami mats strung together to hide the grease underneath now full in spots with sand dragged in from the beach just inside the door a mouse sits up on its hind legs and i think for a moment to get up and shoo it away but no let it be it adds charm to the place so i drift back into sleep eyelids closed i see the ocean floor much like i did so often when spearing fish while free diving for hours i drift and that screen plays a movie of lava rock and fish flitting i dream . . . my long-time friend with a droopy face from Bell's palsy which lasts only a week he feels it will be forever maybe a stroke but he is only in his 30s so i try to reassure him and think better of joking about the times i shot fish through both eyes they twitched at the end of the spear but that was just reflex
in tree shade i ink one side of the fish
(page 57)
heat wave the scratch of a sun-dried towel
(page 25)
w. f. owen
in the half-light of morning
here in Hawaii in a room which really was a garage cleaned up just enough to be livable i survey the aches from the previous long day of diving for a living and it was a good job though no health insurance or even surety of a next meal i peer out to the tatami mats strung together to hide the grease underneath now full in spots with sand dragged in from the beach just inside the door a mouse sits up on its hind legs and i think for a moment to get up and shoo it away but no let it be it adds charm to the place so i drift back into sleep eyelids closed i see the ocean floor much like i did so often when spearing fish while free diving for hours i drift and that screen plays a movie of lava rock and fish flitting i dream . . . my long-time friend with a droopy face from Bell's palsy which lasts only a week he feels it will be forever maybe a stroke but he is only in his 30s so i try to reassure him and think better of joking about the times i shot fish through both eyes they twitched at the end of the spear but that was just reflex
in tree shade i ink one side of the fish
(page 57)
heat wave the scratch of a sun-dried towel
(page 25)
w. f. owen
Friday, March 19, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
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