David Mason

Les Murray's work helped raise his nation's poetry to a level of global importance.  Continue Reading »

Outside Taos, New Mexico The topknot turned. Light struck the needled floor. The darts of sunlight found you where you lay, a target of entrancement, breathing pitch. I think of all you saw that day, but most of all I think about your face, a zone of passing weather, reading change, and being it, . . . . Continue Reading »

“Why was this splendid monster given life?” “Thomas M. Disch, Camp Concentration The rent is due, and a pelagic grief stretches far beyond what the eye can see. Why was this splendid monster given life only to end it all in misery? Stretching far beyond what the eye can see in ruled . . . . Continue Reading »

The friend who tells me I’m a selfish ass is drunk, so maybe I should let it pass before his acid eats out my insides, the torture chamber where my self abides. It is a clean and comfortable room with open windows that dispel the gloom, but there on my imaginary rack I am my own tormenter, . . . . Continue Reading »

From the day my old man hazed the young cadet to now, as I pull on my socks, how many universes have been born? That eager Ensign, still too wet behind the ears, became the king of jocks, an astronaut amid the alien corn. Each waking moment is a walk in space. Pull up your socks and join the human . . . . Continue Reading »