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The Sassoon Collection: ii. A pickle and a black hole
The Sassoon Collection ii. A pickle and a black hole Mass and form had the pickle, sweet, sour, tall and straight; The round black hole collapsing still further then it knew Made its longest shadow...
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The Sassoon Collection: vii. The Manager
The Sassoon Collection vii. The Manager ‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the well-rested manager said When we worked through the night to finish on time the urgent assignment he failed to review and...
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There is no “i” in Phalanx
There is no “i” in Phalanx Across calescent karstic plains, attentive, observant, at walking pace, searching for a more than suitable place to play these noble and momentous games, purposely,...
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The Handcuff King
The Handcuff King Escape pays for now: suspend me upside down; lock glass and steel; fill fully; water flowing over. But if my escapes entertains, understand that it is my existence. I can handle...
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The ball is in our courts
The ball is in our courts The shirts press the skins looking for the turnover. The skins set screens to break the press and force overtime. The two teams play without arena staff, relying on unknown...
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The Sassoon Collection: iv. Butter and Eggs
The Sassoon Collection iv. Butter and eggs Robust diners, deftly forking in the fat. O no longer living triglycerides against the heedless tongue Of buffet and banquet days, what sends them gliding...
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The relay
The relay I know I must, but how, I ask; I must understand that of which to ponder. Action waits for thought, and thought seems far away; action is...
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The Sassoon Collection: vi. The imperfect cook
The Sassoon Collection vi. The imperfect cook I never ordered something to be perfect, Though often I’ve asked for fiery spicy or without sugar as a small invasion Of mastering cooking. I never asked...
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The Sassoon Collection: viii. Middle Age
The Sassoon Collection viii. Middle Age I heard a creak, and a groan And felt a twinge of wooden pain A man running in a crowd Deep in its shadow he moved. ‘Ugly work!’ thought I, Gasping for breath....
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The Sassoon Collection: iii. Blonde
The Sassoon Collection iii. Blonde Her head-weak thoughts that once eagerly gave way to looks that leapt sure from eye to brain and into heart, Weaving unconscious promises of love, Are now thrust...
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The Sassoon Collection: x. Particle Show
The Sassoon Collection x. Particle Show AND still they come and go: and this is all I know— That from the mind I watch an endless particle-show, Where wild and listless forces flicker on their way,...
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The Sassoon Collection
The Sassoon Collection i. Everyone sang while I fell asleep voices wailing around the house thud of feet and slam of doors everyone singing only the clocks wind down around this small room no sense of...
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40th Anniversary Post
Not sure if it’s something to celebrate, though clearly an excuse to blog, 40 full years have passed since the first published Zumwalt poem, “Trilogy of the Oblique Carbide appeared in the inaugural...
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Two Decade Hangover
Two Decade Hangover An oscillating madness Like the twenty-year howl Of impotent hyenas— Shrill Shrieking Schlock— Blows the encumbering cobwebs And reveals the Fundamental dry rot. Crewcuts Brylcream...
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