by Robert Lee Haycock | Oct 5, 2016 | art, photographs, poetry
It was in the Old de Young the Grand Girl gone for fifteen years now so figure twenty we were mounting an exhibition of Wiley’s work full of dunce and wizard caps, violin ‘f’ holes, pieces of maps, fastidious lines, luminous washes not to mention a wrought iron cart...
by Robert Lee Haycock | Sep 19, 2016 | Humor, poetry
Fossils Arranged Numbered Measured Dead Yet sometimes of a late night we like to dance around the store room and watch ourselves gavotte. We whisper stories one to another of our fleshly selves before the landslides of life overwhelmed us and of how petrified we were...
by Robert Lee Haycock | Aug 20, 2016 | poetry
Chased the circus across Idaho Rousting about got old pretty quick Dad spent the night in A Washington jail Begged the jailer A warm place to sleep
by Robert Lee Haycock | Jul 27, 2016 | photographs, poetry |
One afternoon, the last week on Fletcher’s Ranch Run the dump truck after the combines Then across the field to the auger pit Engage the power-take-off on the tractor Dump the barley and screw it up into the silo Sweep up and back to chase the harvesters ...
by Robert Lee Haycock | Jun 20, 2016 | poetry |
He prowls the drive-in theater In daylight through a tinny confusion Of accordions from the land to the south Among stalks of sugarcane Boxes of eight-track tapes Purses T-shirts Toys and dishes The detritus of other folks’ Much too much lives He rescues...
