Bio

I am, in any given order or disorder: An American in Paris since 1980. A classical pianist. A modest folder of origami. A teacher. A wearer of a several-times-broken heart on my sleeve. A lover of beauty, wherever it pops up. A poet, albeit perpetually learning. A recent survivor of cancer, still a tense subject. A dilettante cello player. I lover of cats. A sedentary traveler. A black sheep. An orphan, in the large sense of the word. A man preoccupied with traces and death. And I write about most of it.

death
floats
its freeze
contains all
waters from rivers
flowing in every direction
the bloodline crossing humanity's feverishness
no longer to be called by its definition but superstitious ignorant words

madmen cast nets of webbing no super-heroes can ever catch before time runs out
formulas exist to predict these stagnating mires
until refreshed life-lines explode
with uncontrolled growth
deep, thick roots
bring back
more
hope