Tag: love-poetry

Midlife in Four Cantos

Paratroopers empty one by one
Dropping from the hive
Now growl as one great
Carpet to cover the windows
Door handles and locks.
A bee moat.


Unlatch me, catch and return me scales, underbitten and in the flesh A real guest of honor. Crumpled shirts creased, A Western hanging for Black hats. Barn door closets Open and craving smart suits. Drawers devoid of life, Almost empty except Gideon’s guide book — The Special Edition With tourist maps all Pointing north at

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Riding passenger side snapping right, I’m down in front stealing long exposures. From the back seat our youth sits Mocking us with instant polaroids. Destroyed pictures of minutes and memory Precious and precarious slip a stone At once here and at once gone. Right under the driver breaks hard and higher Up another mile, silently

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Mine Fields

Is the rain bothering you awake?
No honey, your breath tries my dreams.
Silence, broken by my
Finger tips tapping out
Warnings in barbed Morse code.
So even a clock stopped dead
Is twice right, like opinions or
Pain medications.
A real mistress knows that
Night whispers her end.

Home Ode

Weather and evening corralled the horses inside.
Our engines idled, cooled, then died.
Suddenly yet expectantly (as ice or apple pie)
Boring holes in us with collapsible eyes —
Like summer left us in an awful rush,
So the bent boys gasped
As tall awkward girls cried.

Shadow Dancing

Until the day comes when my breath no longer returns from the night, Now visible from my lungs, freed into the winter air

The Country of Illness

In the country of Illness
I live in a town called sick
Squabbling and wordless
Rounded outwardly and thick.

Playing the Cat

Nestled pyramids, soldiers of sand,
No servants hand, no strangers.
No one died today, no saints
Made. Cat wore the Ankh,
Carried the dog headed staff,
Drawing along the sea crooked to
And fro on the sand, wand dragging

Saving Rescuers

Stronger than knives or strokes and
Beleaguered, lonesome old oaks,
Together again, those wings, the trees,
Gasping at them as I forgot to sing.
Spanning years’ dimly stated demands
Its our last night in the Neverland.

Film Noir Femme

The pain in your veins, heat aghast, you faint.
The hole swallows her body and soul.
Why in the universe do we know something exists at all,
If we pretend to see, to know, bite a fruit and fall.
Algorithmic syncopated circus acts,
And drums tight as a father’s facts.