Can a poem be written? Or does it evolve?

Images spontaneously combust

as you peel away layer after layer

of what you thought you meant to say

until your words speak for themselves.

And you finally learn to trust your big dumb red wheelbarrows (thank you William Carlos Williams).


Short poetry, slam poetry, even a little formal poetry. Written over the past few years in workshops and classes or just sitting around at night clearing the debris out of my head. A great flipside to my day job.