do you remember being a goose? do you remember flying in pairs your neck pulled long and straight warm feathering into the wind your boney beak bobbing far out in front to beats pulsed sideways by your partner’s heart? 0
Category: Book o’ Verse
Call the Water
Is it enough to call the water black to talk about the swirls, the crack in the floor of this Bay That steams up sleep evaporating soaking into a newspaper headline till it has mighty heft Is now a good…
The weatherman says
“The eye of the storm never hit land although obviously the eye wall did.” Obviously. Like now we’re all supposed to know what an “eye wall” is. Meanwhile: I’m having these dreams where Mr. Roarke was originally Tattoo and he’s…
No one should suffer
Some say “no one should suffer simply because they have chosen to fall in love.” But I’m not certain I agree. Surely someone should suffer. Surely. Someone should suffer simply. Because they have chosen to fall. But perhaps no one…
Strut
Thank you for the strut even though I know it wasn’t intended for me. 0
Those nails
Pity poor Pol Pot’s cat. Hitler’s hamster. Fed by this thing. Stroked by this thing. By this skin those nails they scratch that spot. Pity poor Pol Pot’s cat. 0
Smaller, slender, grave
Other people have smaller fingers slender grave pincers and they move fragments around. The smallest reposition dust to achieve a fine result. Not children. I’m not talking about children or woodland creatures. Other grown ups. Living in crash pads with…
Wall pile
Wet ride this morning. Chalk bricks trying to absorb pulling it in cold wood old wood. Paper mats. His wet feet uncovered, yes? Flat cats lick his feet. Vapor socks. Lick sneaker pump. Lick vapor swoosh. And those feet stir.…
Unphotographed pets
held with small fingers slips of bone sometimes lose their names change hue as six dead gerbils shade to four black mice as two turtles become a snake and goldfish replicate. 0
You, triumphing at last, flags wave
the elephants do their dance and you know that it’s your time how they’re dancing for you how they’ve painted their names how they’ve polished their pokey things and you’re just sitting back and letting the bump of their girth…