Economy

Some people say my poems are too short
That they need stretching
That I should put them on the rack
But surely if I do that
My audience will be the ones tortured
Has anyone ever called a fifty stanza poem their favorite?
True I do torture my audience by degrees
By tossing out scraps and tidbits
It is all I can do to keep them hungry

Contrast

The contrast, the culture shock
Metal heads sitting next to grandmothers
A teacup surrounded by beers
And half smoked joins
A priest in a mosh pit
And liquid fire
And volcanoes underwater
And rising suns to wish upon
And you, my love, in my arms
As distant as the star
Whose light will only reach the earth
When the earth is no more
When there is only darkness to illuminate