wondering where
everything
will fit
after it’s all
sorted out
Tag: poetry
Poem 20150317
so quiet
that you can hear
people twisting
back and forth
in their office chairs
and the swish swish
of denim on legs
as they slide across
each other
Poem 20150316
let things get out of
hand
why should the
fingers have all the fun
Poem 20150314
is this better?
sharp focus
clear lines between the letters
the card a sharp, painful white
so clear
you can see it all
or worse?
the room fuzzes over
instant caterpillarization
of letter forms
and lamp arms
and everything at arm’s reach
recedes
like a gel lens on a doris day
movie
how about now?
and the lights go off
and there’s nothing to see
except the afterimages
popping like fireworks
and your imagination
popping like fireworks
Poem 20150313
Friday Haiku
light on the water
reflections on the fish’s scales
double suns
Poem 20150312
the gate squeaks, hinges screaming
as i drag back the garbage cans
the sun hangs low, filling the sky
with orange and pink and heat and
dry santa ana winds. the winds
are quiet though, leeching out
the moisture from our skins, an
invisible vampire, making us itch
to pick up knives and test the edges
against our fingers
Poem 20150311
there once was a poet who thought
every word that i write has been wrought
from my flesh and my blood
but this last one’s a dud
so maybe i’ll focus on plot
Poem 20150310
i fell through darkness into
deeper darkness
striking the earth with my back
splitting the ground
and splitting my bones
the darkness covered me
my breathing grew ragged
and my pulse faint
until the angels came
they breathed into my mouth
and my lungs filled with fire
they poured water over my wounds
and the black charred husk
washed away from my skin
and i could see the stars
turning and singing
and was happy for the darkness
Poem 20150309
the goats barely seem interested
in their treats
maybe because they’re too busy
wondering about the difference
in walking partners
their level of interest
skyrockets once
the chickens show up for crumbs
maybe it’s the time change
but the morning turned out colder
than i thought it would
with low, heavy clouds
still pretending that the sun
won’t break through later
if it parted the clouds now
like some old testament pillar of fire
the sun would bake us
and you would have to take off
your sweater when we walk back
and the goats would run for shade
Poem 20150308
through my open window
i hear the traffic of the freeway
they warned us when we bought
that the freeway was close
were we sure this is where we wanted to buy?
there were other houses that didn’t border
the big river of concrete
with the noise
but it didn’t matter to us
and now
the first day of daylight savings
after we’ve sprung forward
and the sun seems to take longer to
drift below the horizon
the freeway sounds like the roar of an alien ocean
where the waves never crash against
the sand
the rushing of water in some giant river
in fact and not just metaphor
and the motorcycles vibrating growls and shrieks
the shrill cries
of foreign birds seeking a meal
returning again and again
always circling
Words and Feathers 