Suntrap

Summer was wealthy with a daze of suntraps, writes Aidan Carl Mathews. So great a sweetness flows into the breast, writes William Butler Yeats. There is the creative joy, an acceptance of what life brings, because we have understood the beauty of what it brings, or a hatred of death …

Wheatgrass Sea

At my hometown across/the wheatgrass sea/forever you can see/along the vanishing point.  Arise and drift ever so/slowly there’s always time/there always was time. To point out/Saying exactly/the shape of things to come.   

Ghost Writer in Me

Beginning the process today of revising my debut novel, which was published in 2001. I originally wrote the book in 1997-98 and now after a professional copy-edit, I am going through the manuscript getting it ready for a new edition. The great difficulty is working on prose written by me …

Circle (fragment)

It’s a Merry-go-Round, with its ups and its down, its whimsical carriages and its rearing unicorns. It’s a song that I can’t get out of my head, round and round like the blackest pressed vinyl. It’s the bluest vortices that I tumble into; it’s the mania of the most angelic …

Initial Circle

Today his ashes are in a coffee can, as if grounds. He was a lover of caffeine. At his funeral the can was displayed in front of a diorama with panels of photographs, artwork and ephemera from Kevin’s life. I recall the diffuse light in the parlor, the folded chairs …