Author: crow

I'm a writer and a dabbler. I live in Southern California.

Poem 20150204

crow

the moon hangs full and ripe
like a melon
like a breast
like a motorcycle headlight
like an eye
like a cookie
like an alka seltzer tablet
like a window into another world
like a cold princess’s smile
like an angel’s star-shattering voice
like a fairy’s reflection in still water
like a dumpling in a steamer basket

Poem 20150203

crow

the lights dance
in midair
like fireflies
like fairies
and you want
more than anything
for them
to be otherworldly
and not just
strings of lights
caught in the wind
in the neighbor’s backyard

Poem 20150202

crow

in high school
my best friend’s dad, a cop
took us shooting one weekend
at a local range

i don’t remember where

there were a lot of rules about
when you could pick up the gun
when you could pop in the clip
where you could point it, loaded or not
and once i picked it up
before they gave the go ahead
and the man behind the bullet-proof glass
yelled at me
to lay the gun down
and every
single
eye
pinned
me
to
where
i
stood

they probably wondered if i
were insane or just stupid
but there was no doubt that i
was dangerous to a dugout full
of armed men

i put the gun down

his dad showed me how to shoot an automatic
but I wasn’t very good
even then my eyesight was bad
one time, the slide drew back
and sliced through the knuckle of my thumb
because I was holding it wrong
like a cop on tv

you never saw anyone’s knuckles
spurt blood on tv

my ears rang afterward
even with the headphones on

Poem 20150131

crow1 Comment

she crawls on top of me
her skirt sliding up over
her thighs
bare knees pressed
against my hips
i can feel her heat
through my jeans
she leans down
her hair brushes
against my face
and she whispers
bearing down on me
like a fire
like the sun
her mouth against my ear
she whispers
“it’s okay if we do this”
and she presses down against me
and I slide my hands up her back
and find her skin
and her breath is fire

Poem 20150129

crow

i could write a poem
about the trees i have planted
in my back yard
i can see them from the family room
i can almost see them from
my office
but not from a seated position
i have to stand in the doorframe
and crane my neck
to see the silver sheen
and the spindly avocado

but absent from view are
the lemon and lime trees
the trees i was most excited
to put in the ground

the lemon has blossoms on it now
and reminds me of all the things
in my life that blossom
that swell from a green bud
into the promise of fruit
and finally into the fruit itself

sometimes the fruit is small
or bitter
or ugly
but usually
it is a miracle

Poem 20150128

crow

more than halfway to school
the path slick
with a half-hearted
california frost
the front tire turns
just the right way
to stop the bike

i slide
sideways
not as graceful as a luge
and turn, tumbling
i feel the knees
of my pants rip
chewed through by the
asphalt that seemed
smooth and icy
but was just a disguised
set of black teeth

when i stand again
my palms and knees bloody
both hot and cold
i wonder if i should turn back
or press on, muddy and damaged

i do not remember now
what i chose