during a conversation overhead in line at the supermarket
where the speaker is telling the checker that she is beautiful
and she is just urging him to swipe his credit card
i wonder about how you feel when i tell you
you are beautiful and you are not even ringing up my groceries
when i say it do you wish that didn’t because you don’t believe it
not that you disbelieve that i think it but you doubt that factuality of it
and sometimes i think you say thanks while you shake your head
like you are urging me to swipe my credit card and get on with it
Tag: poem
Poem 20151113
fingers move across
the keys–but there on the screen
the lovers’ hands touch
Poem 20151112
the red line cuts through the words
not only striking down the extraneous comma
nor marking the place where something
that was forgotten
should be forcefully inserted
the red underlines the thoughts
that should be emphasized
and marginalizes the words with
annotations
this word would be better here
this word should be excised
from your vocabulary
this phrase seems redundant–
they both say i love you
more poignant where one says it
and the other keeps you guessing
the red line opens a red line
in your skin that is white
like paper
but only like paper
Poem 20151111
the disassembled hard drive behaves
as if it were made of magic
with its bright silver platters
central spindle wheels
actuator
logic board
magnets
head
Poem 20151110
this is the real thing, this life
an absence of the not thing
a scarcity of the not life
your skin burns away
in the heat
your skin dries up
in the cold
we are mummies and ashes and ice
let it all crack and crackle
let it split us open
hollow us out before
we step into the dry heat
–at least it’s a dry heat,
they say, as if that makes it
a better heat–
we will be put back together
maybe kinstuki
glittering and showing our flaws
but whole
Poem 20151109
bare
peach tree
a promise
empty but not
exactly
lies or
words
and now the all leaves
once green and dotted with buds
–fall, and fall yellow
—
Poem 20151108
the sky perfect blue
and the air clean
all of it crisp like an apple
like a photograph
the old kind stuck in an album
with vibrant color
and time-curled edges
like a childhood memory that surfaces
replacing the current scenery
insistent and now
–waking up early on a holiday break
tearing out of the house
into a morning the slices through your coat
with no destination in mind–
that apple-crisp air
strikes my face
less a slap than a reminder
and i turn and find the sweet spot
where the sun rests
between my shoulderblades
and i am warm and cold
at the same time
–here and there
–now and then
Poem 20151107
in the botanical gardens
the squirrel scampers right up
to my shoe
he doesn’t give a shit
about the sign
saying
don’t feed
tease
or play with
the squirrels
i suspect he wants
something to eat
but i am empty handed
if i caught him
in my peach tree
i might treat him
to a rock
lobbed in his direction
but today
i feel bad for him
then i remind myself
that he is surrounded by
pines
and he is a little opportunist
scheming for easy food
and the chance to pass
on the plague
we part ways
without a word of
recrimination
not friends
but not enemies either
and i see him romp through
the bushes
toward an unsuspecting
family
and i think
suckers
Poem 20151106
crickets chirp confused
–fake summer that disappears
as night falls on them
Poem 20151105
the heart is a piece of meat
i know
because i saw
my mother
pull the innards out of turkeys
at thanksgiving
she salted and peppered them
along with some squishy red
organs
and fried them in a saucepan
then cut them into bits
and used them to make
gravy
and when we poured it over
mashed potatoes
stuffing
rolls
and roasted turkey meat
you could see the bits
and pieces
of that heart
and the thought never occurred
to be grateful for the heart
and no one asked
–what had the turkey loved
that had that made the heart
sufficient?
Words and Feathers 