Later Works: The Untimely Death of a Narrativist


Splashing till this work is done

shark eyes defied the cowardly brave

Ballinasloe bound under bloody sun

a dream to dare I could never save



Sliced out eyes starred back at shame

and me a man of courage watching

sloth machines burned out the flame

last long puffs from loved ones catching.



escape shorn from such short scutch-grass

beseeched above some pleading beaches

grouped ambitions became requiem mass

ineffectual grasps beyond our reaches.



fired, watered soil brought forth our mirth

but we never called it clay we called it dirt.

The Untimely Death of a Narrativist