Between earth and sky and the bearded light of filtering stars, I walked away homeless, death trailed close behind like a poor relative, but tonight, something in the smell of the
It wasn’t a job for one man let alone a clay man of cheese and crackers. At night after the lights on the block went out, all we could hear
I wanted to control him, but in a good way, like a Mickey Mousenik from the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, my honey-do mopping up mess with a wooden bucket, a live-in housekeeper on the look-out
Another golem came around. Oh, yes. There’s more than one. Talked to students, retirees, regular people. And what happened? Mein kinder cuckoo in the head tarred him with names: socialist, communist, devil— the usual thing
The Ghost Ship sailed into the Oakland harbor smelling of burning flesh. No one was left. That same day people marveled how hundreds of yellow marigolds, all sizes, grew beneath the ship’s bottom lifting its charred remains
Still unsettled from my last call, when Christian babies had been dug from graves and stashed inside Jewish kitchens to prove guilt, now up against energy efficient drones all rubble down the ritual hole
Collaborative Zoom Reading: Maw Shein Win, Lenore Weiss, Alex Mattraw & Tiff Dressen
7-8pm
Thursday, March 26, 2026Clio’s Books, 353 Grand Avenue, 7pm to 9pm Influence, Reinvention & Work that EnduresLenore Weiss, Lee Rossi & Paul Corman-Roberts
Friday, April 17, 2026
National Poetry MonthSF Writers Grotto, 5-7 pm1663 Mission Street, #602
San Francisco, CA