naiku (20171029)

a gentle breeze
sucker punches the sycamore
not enough to bend it double
but enough to knock loose
a few leaves like teeth
spiralling and spinning
on their way down

a squirrel eyes me
suspiciously
like i’m the one
who egged the wind on
so i give him the finger
since my dog is too old
to give a shit
about a squirrel
halfway up a sycamore

how calming the wind is
how beautiful this fall dance
of leaves/teeth
how angry the squirrel
clinging like spiderman
to the bark

it’s a good
autumn day

the meek (20170405)

black blur on red bricks
this spring day
heats up like summer
and you and your kin
warm yourselves
and scatter yourselves

i have seen more
of your brethren
in one year of heat
than in a lifetime of
cooler years
and i wonder
if this a new age
of dinosaurs

these ones will be tiny
and won’t fly
and won’t have feathers
they will have scales
and eat insects
and inherit the earth
and i hope
they are kinder to the bees

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 5

Check out these sites:

weltschmerz (20160623)

taking a walk
through the industrial district
near work
is just like
being in paradise

you have the real breeze but
it can’t compare
to the warm wind whipped up
by the giant delivery trucks
and rumbling passenger-less trains

or the sweet scent
of diesel and gas
borne gently
on that wind
like a lily’s fragrance

the ground shakes
with traffic
as if the earth is new
and making itself
ex nihilo, ad infinitum

smoke (Poem 20160501)

someday soon i am going to catch on fire

not through any action of my own

not by smoking in bed
i’m too cheap to buy cigarettes

not by standing too close to an open flame
while wearing non-flame-retardant pajamas

not by standing beneath a giant magnifying glass
on a sunny day like some ant cooked by a bully

not even from some smoldering look you
carelessly toss my way
though that would be my preferred method

i think spontaneous combustion is nature’s way
of cleaning up its weeds
turning us into carbon-rich ash for a new
generation of green things without nettles

so i tell myself i won’t mind so much
when i finally smell the smoke

Poem 20150912

nature is a mouth
longing to kiss
to force open our mouths
and drive in a frantic
desperate tongue

it runs its hands over
the sensitive parts
of our bodies
causing shivers
and tingles
and longing
inflaming the flesh
like a lover
bent on seduction

that sky
those clouds
even the hawk with
his breakfast
still squirming in his
talons
just fingers seeking
the quickest way
into our hidden recesses

there is no resolve to break