Taggart's Poetry
The Vise
The machine steals my craft, my joy, my trust and even so, the bosses want me to love it and not just love it, but nurture it, promote it, improve it with my labor the labor it imperils
They Took the Stars
Western Colorado Great Basin National Park the darkest sky I can find in a few days' drive
War Comes Quiet
The war comes quiet undeclared, unresolved a door creaks open inch by inch
Learn the Stars
Learn the stars
Monitoring the Situation
I scroll and tap
After the Rain
After the rain
Old Hills
I am older now
For Wendell
Your words are like the house you built by the river with your wife— aged oak, smoothed with time and care— simple, true, and strong.
Last Post
I think a lot about
The River
You and I are
Accountable
They knew way back in seventy-two, in big block letters on the overhead projector:
The Monster
Years after leaving power, The Monster finally dies and people cheer the news like justice.
Seeking Grace
At night I walked