parenthood (20171001)

kronos signed his name
to the application
turned it in
still attached to the clipboard
though it fit awkwardly
in the inbox

the social worker
looked over the form
he thought how much
this looked like the dmv

–all government offices are the same

she looked up at his mutter
and he coughed, covering his mouth

–this says here
that you’ve been a father
before. can you explain
why you want to adopt?

he looked into the
shadowed corner behind her
in the small office

–hungry

first itch (20170419)

at first there was an itch
an itch that wasn’t there before
and no hand to scratch it
so a fire had to do
to contain the itch
but the fire grew out of control
it burned without oxygen to consume
and its ashes became a fine mist
and the drops coalesced into diamonds
the first stars
and they sang with voice
but there was no air
and there was no one to hear

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 19

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gray eye (20170407)

pity the trio
of old women
with a single eye
and single tooth
among them

though they
know much that
is hidden
when the eye
rolled behind the sofa
and they could not
find the can opener
they resorted to blind
cannibalism

politely taking turns
chewing
each other
with that one tooth

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 7

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pĂșca (20160822)

long-eared
dark-skinned
grass eater
speaking with a human tongue

what a frightful beast
under the moon
are your lips red with blood
or just the dew

i’ll give you a fine silk suit
if only you will help me
finish this bit of labor
though i know it is a sin to ask a boon

i think farmer mcgregor had best
be wary of you
and not take the offer of a ride
from a strange black horse

how the stars came to be (20160625)

when the world was new
and the sky was still
a thing of darkness
the animals strove to
fill it up with light

the lion
climbed the highest tree
filling the air with
the thunder of his roar
he became the sun

the fox
curled into a circle
near a lake where
her reflection blurred
and she became the moon

while the cat and the snake
argued over who would accompany
the fox in her nightly journeys
they did not see the finch
pluck hair from the lion’s mane
from the fox’s tail
and scatter them
through the darkness

Poem 20160124

he had the feet of a snake
and the wings of a hare
like many desert creatures
carried a pack of brambles
on his back to capture
the morning’s moisture

i asked
–old man, why do you toil
setting stone upon stone
every day when the crows
steal them at night
and carry them to the ocean
where they drop them in
sea?

he placed yet another boulder
upon the pile
dust covered his face
his hands were those of a coyote
he laughed
–to bring water to the desert