Good Fortune
The coin fed gypsy, returned to the arcade this year freshly repaired and painted. Teeth yellow and faintly brown like Daffodil heads bowing to die, like her crookedly redeemed poesy red cheeks just installed.
Tag: death and dying poetry
Fly Away Home, Blessed Body
A blue velvet bag opened by this single Movement – her hand reached Into the spaciousness above And all stars’ light unpacked, and Secreted away in drawer full of daydreams. Now the seashore glistens With the promise of night, and Eternally luminous With all the befores, And all the ever afters, Moving our millions of tears Into a single smiling river. “Goodnight my beautiful bodies,” And we fly away home, laughing.
Eventide
Riding passenger side snapping right, I’m down in front stealing long exposures. From the back seat our youth sits Mocking
Florida, State Your Name
Slowly dripping outside busy windows
Only two minutes, like eggs timed, yet
She’s done cooking. With eyelashes, false
Newly bred widows sit with spidery eyes,
Single fingers silently making reservations for twos.
They reapply the glue, so unkind, that humidity.
