Glenn Bagshaw Biography

Cloud-popping, blue-raved summer sky
with light stuck out like a tongue:
you're the gorgon's gaze
to a warm, dry earth
...

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (Shakespeare)
You're hot in spots and then you fade away....
...

Cresting flowers are plumed as waves.
Lives, our lives are smashed ashore.
Slips rip tide, waves pour pounded mortal roar.
The single life now drowns.
...

You think it's magic that light will climb the skies,
that mind's inner math measures volumed world,
and branch bobs bird as bird with branch replies;
that no heart mends at midnight- whirl when hurled
...

When we finish our dance
our bulk fills the ground,
and the fear that we own
is the thought of no- sound,
...