Down in the Wine-Dark Cellar


Wooden whale spouts,

a glass-handled horse penis,

a scowling pirate

in scarf and eye patch,

Sicilian sirens

stained and unstained,

elephantine tear-drops

suspended in time;

decades of must

and memories, 

down in the shadows

and shallows 

of the wine-dark cellar.



by Riverside Drive

New York City

October 2004

from The Speed of Sight


Inside the Fish



Inside the fish.

As you filet it

by yourself.

At your table.

Where it has


with a bottle of

cold white wine.

You open the hinge,

and find

beneath its scales

the guts

of a grand piano.

Strung tight

with wires.

That resonated

as early as

this morning

in the open sea.

When the now grilled

and silent instrument

was alive and playing

a vibrant blue-and-

green water music.





February, 2006


The Ouzo Hour



The hour

when limbs loosen,

eyes soften.

Anise, ice and water


Sun dissolves

into saffron,


The upper bodies

of bathers become

half gold,

the lower

half blue.

Moon phosphoresces.

Spirit floats,

conversation flirts,

night coalesces:

the ouzo hour.




Kea, the Cyclades


August 2012


Milk & Honey



I love milk & honey.

Chèvre warm from the goat.

Grapes warm from the vine.

Honest wine pouring through the mouth.

Songs of love, songs of the sea,

songlines of the spirit; new selves.

Seeing into essences, hearing into presences.

The Earth breathing with the Heavens.

Man breathing with Nature.

Sacred lands, story lands.

Endless mysteries felt and stirring.

All flowing joys, passions; possibilities.




New Jersey

January 2017