Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
Five Memories of Dick Nixon one The 4th of July is near, the day of independence. Sensing this, knowing this, the President has declared that he has decided once again freedom is for all. Sensing this, knowing this, the President Continue reading Five Memories of Dick Nixon by Lennart Lundh
Mekong Delta Identity Blues as a Brief American Senryu Sequence we came in guns hot over stained glass paddy fields breaking each sweet pane into orange fragments roiling in black clouds of smoke with blood red highlights peasants or charley Continue reading Five poems by Lennart Lundh