
deep in the cave,
there’s a hole that knows no light;
everything
and nothing can reside
within that black hole

deep in the cave,
there’s a hole that knows no light;
everything
and nothing can reside
within that black hole

Nothing is straightforward,
or simple.
Everything is a messy mix
of shades
blended in swirling clouds—
chaos clouds.
Those who can redraw the world
with sharp, angular boundaries
are the masters of self-deception:
for all deception is self-deception.

red berries
and spiky green leaves
trigger Christmas mind

How does one master menace,
carving optimal malignancy
into a festive orange orb?
Sometimes the faces intended
to convey happy holiday blessings
are the most creepy and disconcerting…
you know, like with real peoples’ faces.
Sometimes the faces intended
to torture souls and rend psyches
are over-the-top and campy or silly…
you know, like with real peoples’ faces.
How does one master menace
on a festive orange orb?


wild grape on a wall
is a multi-clawed monster…
in my mind

leaves are falling
throughout the city, &
someone sweeps them up

foggy Fall morning:
one bank is clear, one hazy —
both of one river

in the mountainside,
there’s a tiny cave entrance:
a perilous climb

flowers & greenery
&
little bottled candles
form a memorial
on the train bridge
crossing the river
but the most soul-chilling
is the stuffed toy rabbit,
standing weathered & unkempt,
it testifies that someone
saw the deceased
as a tiny child
was she a tiny child,
or just so remembered?
so many questions float on
as that cold river glides below

A multiethnic gourmand of Bratislava
liked to go downstairs for a hot java,
then over to Hungary
for torte topped with berry,
and on to Vienna for a slice of baklava.