Sunday, November 3, 2019


Thunder/Perfect Mind by Lisa Gibbons

"I was sent from the power
and have come to those who contemplate me
and am found among those who seek me."
- Thunder, Perfect Mind

I make the pilgrimage
from horizon to horizon
in the last half-light
of yr hands unfolding.

imagine peace.
get rid of yr clocks.

hold me like a hand grenade—
all yr secret histories
sprouted from the difference
between a handle of vodka & a Molotov.

how does one refute the picking
of flowers yet say nothing
when crossing a bridge?

what of the reasons to become a grain
of sand in another's hour glass?
and the way we often mistake
attachment for something else—

too many waves goodbye
& not enough clenched fists.

(you want to learn the ways of a warrior.
start a garden. you want somebody to pay
for all this. plant a tree.)

all conditioned things are impermanent.
it is impossible to turn yr back on yrself.

these the facts that keep you.
taking second looks over yr shoulder.

Friday, October 18, 2019


Pablo Picasso, Drawing on Paper

the day they drained the wishing well
is the day we overthrew father time
from his throne of authority.

there isn't anything else to be said
of moonrakers & their subjects.

otherwise you wouldn't have found me
zoned out on space-time again
face to face with this mountain.

the mission of a mesquite
stoking the other side of my seeking—
do you remember a time before chain link & iron?
bolt cutters & winches?
red wine & paper cups?

...the cargo of dream bodies
through vanishing daylight
like many glimpses over yr shoulder.

Sunday, October 13, 2019


Flowers of the Abyss by RenĂ© Magritte

"We are surrounded by the circle of our vision."
- David Meltzer

a time to feed the windows
& a time to unname the trees.

the wind mauls the spines of Redwoods.
persuade them from their wrath.

fold a fist & you'll understand
every secret between rivers.

we don't have long now—
prayer flags begging to differ

Thursday, September 26, 2019


Illumination by Kelly Moore

whether it was a bite or a bark
that began the universe
coyote has her own gods to resemble—

the trees are full
of run on sentences.
the sun is a phone call
from the west coast
& ringing off the hook...

when night falls
this time
I just hope yr escape routes have not been made

the crowds are gathered—
they want blood or they want money

what I did to keep alive I'll never tell

open the mountains.
unlock the rivers.
do not look down.

© 2019 D.C. Wojciech

Friday, August 16, 2019


Drawing by Leonora Carrington

starlight infiltrates 
arroyos of the mind.

winter's silver ghost sleep walks 
through cruel door frames.

spider webs of memory spun 
from an apple core.

in the garden painting
the windows to yr mouth.

2,000 years of silence 
wrapped in tobacco leaf.

cicada lit & intrinsic—
tonight tilts the urn.

© 2019 D.C. Wojciech

Friday, August 9, 2019


Rafal Olbinski, 1943

the mirage of herbs & poems.
coyote dreams in her own image.

who drew first blood,
the sun or the falling grapefruit—

under a Tbilisian umbrella
every jail cell smells the same.

the rain dancers killed our nightmares
traversing great distances in the blink of an eye.

dream bodies of oxygen & carbon
under the tutelage of a golden calf.

wars & rumors of wars through vertigo staircases.

where did you last put the keys to the light house—
night inside night inside night inside night inside...

© 2019 D.C. Wojciech

Sunday, July 14, 2019

Untitled No. 49

Terrell James

into hallways of thorns & mirrors
the faceless crowds heed
no voices of mercy
no silver shores of redemption—
everything glimpsing itself
within another's eyes
(remember remember remember remember
remember remember remember