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Sewing Tools
In the Wordshop

The poems that appear here are pieces that have not yet been revised into their final forms. My limited writing time generally goes to writing new poems, so revision might not occur quickly (plus some delay in revising is often helpful in providing some distance on the piece). Revision generally happens during breaks in the academic calendar. Once revised, poems will be integrated into one of the existing chapwebs.

Eclogue of Pen and Poet




The pen reposes on the laminated wood desk top.

A perfect rest, it seems, though atoms seethe within,

and earth revolves, and orbits, while the solar system

swings round our spiral, with its own dark thrust and spin.


For me, the pen is still, like water pooled at last

in some depression: satisfied, relaxed, serene;

the falling man in falling elevator car

will feel no motion: that’s how Einstein set the scene.


We share the same momentums: riding on a train,

together, passing time in dialectic thought,

across the x-dimensional, expanding plane.




Imagine, though, as Albert might, the pen was still,

suddenly fixed. Cue video of speeding car,

brick wall; except the car is Earth, the wall my pen.

We’ll need the slo-est-mo in our brief seminar.


At hundreds of kilometers a second, the desk

impacts the pen, then carpet, concrete floor, and on.

No doubt a shock wave sends my books, and shards of wood

and plaster, me, or parts of me, hither and yon.


Of course, the pen itself is vaporized, but still

momentum is conserved, the pen less mighty than.

Better, thence, to ride the rapids where they will.

NOTE: this eclogue is in progress, as I intend not only to revise the above, but add 2-3 additional sections.

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