Hemingway Hunts

Image

Hemingway Hunts

Hemingway
puts on
his gun metal grey
gloves .
No perplexing
purple today .
Female companions
are gone .
While
pouring
over his Parisian
notes ,
silhouettes in moonlight ,
barrels, and hunting,
begin to preoccupy him .
“Once you’ve hunted
men, nothing quite
compares” he says
as he proceeds
to hunt himself .
photo

Saw Hemingway Again

Saw
Hemingway  
again
Siting in a cafe
Eyes closed
hands joined
In inverted
prayer ,
thinning hair
parted ,
red faced ,
meditating
on  hell .
So many people
mindfully suffer.
Some end
the weight
give up
the ghost
of depression
of  hate
& self loathing
in anaesthetic
solution.

Scarborough

Image

Scarborough

Scarborough

By the Shrine of the Little
Flower ,
near the crumbling cliffs of clay
on the sky, sand, and blue water ,
I stopped with
a few words to say.
Where a cross sword
set in stone stands
on the expressway island
tall
and stone statue
in white flowing robe,
all sooted with grey,
kneels and clasps hands
in eternity of night and day .
Under the green and rising dome ,
a remembrance of those in the past
who struggled in the times
and lands far away.

By the home where
both the children
and the young men
once use to play,
there I stopped to catch
my final breath at last ,
and quietly drift away .