It isn’t real, my friend. I mean Creation.
For everything you are or do or know
Is nothing more than bytes of information.
An algorithm makes the whole thing go. Continue reading “The Game”
A poem is a fish
in search of a hook Continue reading “The Catch”
He misses the faint star
that a thousand years ago Continue reading “Haiku on a Faint Star”
The last butterfly
lies folded in the tool shed Continue reading “Haiku on a Butterfly”
Poetry’s the art of pointing
(at what, I cannot say) Continue reading “Cue the Reader”
That it should come to this.
The shadows lengthen in my direction.
My sun expires in the glory of its fires
and all things darken to the sea. Continue reading “The Trackless”
So that’s how it’s done.
Collapse on to the pavement,
Feign a heart-attack,
and the people stop and care. Continue reading “A Cry from the Heart”
Here lie some bits of Kevin Steiger
who rashly tried Ju Jitsu on a tiger. Continue reading “Kevin Steiger”
The days are dismal; I despair.
My poet’s gland is throbbing there.
Then let me think. Then let me try Continue reading “The Dismal Days”
They shone their torches
and made the cave disappear. Continue reading “Haiku on a Secret Cave”
I press the words
and what I mean Continue reading “What the Words Said”
Now I see the Earthrise, Houston.
Half the world is shining in the sky.
The rest’s in shadow. I can see my house! Continue reading “Santa on the Moon”
All things that
might have been,
the nearly-are, Continue reading “The Other Place”
One small step for man,
one giant leap for Mankind, Continue reading “Haiku from Mission Control”