Book o’ Verse

His eyes stopped on her
like a butterfly
landing on your arm.

Lying in bed
scooping a little more sleep
into my bowl, like soup
until the soup goes cold
and starts to overflow
onto the table.
There’s the metal
of the ladel and it clinks
as a thin carrot wedge
rotates … Read on Macduff...

Twee birds, rumbling boat horns,
rough timber movement
rolled up for the night
into a living room carpet spiral
with socks and cat toys,
spoons, string, lost chopsticks.
Leaned sideways through the timeline,
bending toward a corner wall.
And then … Read on Macduff...

Jane won’t eat pears. No matter the context.
Stranded on Pear Planet.
Attacked by toothy pears.
Armed with only a pear fork.
Peckish.
Oh, she’ll kill ’em. Oh sure.
She can be savage.
But she won’t eat the flesh or … Read on Macduff...

They went driving in the rain.
They watched it fall down
on jelly-eyed twenty-eight-years-olds in gold paisley coats,
side-burned thirty-seven-year-olds in suspect camping gear,
fit fifty-year-olds wearing thick, graying furs plucked from cardboard boxes.
Early on, almost at the very … Read on Macduff...

They’re building a flock of geese
out by the base.
For six months now
they’ve been working on it,
piece by piece
sun, wind, rain.
First came the bones.
Then the organs, the muscles.
Fat and flesh.
Last week they … Read on Macduff...

I remember frogs --
feeding them, caring for them
pressing that spot on
the base of their spines...

Small frogs, caught by the creek
cupped for a moment, captive, fluttering
released
open-hand.

Huge store-bought bullfrogs
kept in shaded back-of-garage aquariums.

Put it in a box and bury it
by the side of the house
with a few friends, a eulogy.
Soft voices and a
turning embrace.
Gone, like our grandmothers
and grandfathers. And not
coming back.
No matter how young … Read on Macduff...

Saying the word “doodle” out loud —
“Doodle.”
“Doodle.” —
makes me feel
three months more young, light, and lean
three months less gassy and gray.
Noodle
Poodle.
Streudel.
“Doodle.”

Five minutes after the lights go down
I hear a familiar rustling two seats over.
Someone’s making things happen.
I’m a little stressed but not surprised
when a hand in the darkness offers
two white pills.
“No thanks,” I say, … Read on Macduff...