Proem Press

Selelcted Poems

exponent of the horizontal   mastectomy    Poetry 


the journey


The dragon lives within.


It’s waiting when we’re born,


fire in its eyes, fire its breath,


although we can’t separate it


from the flame we’ve become.


The dragon is the other.


It inhabits the cave inside us,


the shell of scale within the egg,


already old when we’re young,


waiting for the one who will slay it.


Bill drives from Denver to Cheyenne


to see his father the night


of the heart attack.


In the snow,


two red eyes draw continually out of sight.


On and on, the pitiful spear of Bill’s headlamps


pricks the monster’s flank. 


Where have you been, it says.

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