BLUEPEPPER

A Better Catch The seventy-year-old house has its charm, well, it doesn’t. It is the only house I know where I can find my s...

En Plein Air I've taken my class outside so they can write paragraphs about any damn thing instead of staying squeezed b...

Slip Rates I Big economy of mind and spirit. The world economy's figurations bottom Out of themselves; The ripple-ef...

More About the War Years 1.  Black Swans irritation/nothing disastrous only lies and offal/sandpapers worry to death/scratc...

Hyperion’s arms Old myths have dominion over life choices. darkness can be overcome with the stealth of light  but healing ...

- Wayne H. W Wolfson 2018 - Wayne H. W Wolfson 2018 Just click here to visit Wayne's site

Ramon Loyola, 1967-2018 It is with a heavy heart that Bluepepper must report the passing of Ramon Loyola, poet and editor, of a b...

Do whales think in blue Then I touched the wetted skin fletching thoughts the pod’s skittish deference a line of sight If ...

Girl from Mars, or Postcards from far away I stare at him from my desk. He wears thin shirts. He’s unmarried. He’s published a book for s...

The Reaper The Reaper resents always being described as grim though he keeps his resentment to himself.  Who would he tell? ...

Love Doodle In the evening she sketches me. Throws down the lines of my body, shadows my contours, builds my eyelids and knee...

I Can't Wait for  a Lifetime of Vanilla Sex with You Orchids are as delicate as the testicles they are named after, and I...

From Shadows to Star Lines then there's the ark i never had the wherewithal to build for you and the rain that almost took...

The red-sparrow instinct of the phoenix (For the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)     The wild can be savage. Forgive me.     Forgive...

“About one microsecond before sleep falls” A poet answers me thus, speaking of grasping tulips/phrases in those gravis, divid...

Converted Maternity Wing, Wonthaggi I live in the old lay over ward the infants’ windy smiles fall out of the lining of nigh...

In the Field The oats are tall here.  They stand up straight and dry,  seeds hanging like fruit along their edges.  The vast...

One Version of Les What’s going to happen to us without barbarians? They were, those people, a kind of solution   – Constant...

Hands in the Dark I haven’t got my mother’s hands. Her fingers were like ivory candles  that lit piano keys with a kindled fl...

On The Beach     One boat easing from the harbor All this grown-up sky and mist-cloud left   with room to breath All this w...