Poem 12: The Last Chance

“Last chance to see”

The woman in the scales

come one, come all

to the Mermaid in a stall

The man in the checkered suit

waves his gloved hands at the tent

last chance to see

a bit of remaining wonder

a con that only the guileless believed

but we went anyway,

spending our meager cents

for a moment with a woman

who all pretended to be

more than a woman

we needed to believe in something

more than the cars on the road,

the orbs of light on the streets,

and the skyscrapers growing into the sky

we needed a moment that recalled

when humanity lived in fear of the dark,

and knocked wood to keep the fairies away.

Electricity exposed the outlines of our magic

We still need the dark.


Poem 11: Frozen Music

Architecture, frozen music

Wine, captured sun

Opera, conserved passion

Whiskey, preserved earth

Art and food, maintained life

Poem 9: I do not wish

I do not wish to write a poem about a spider

instead of I want to write about a fly

that does not want to die a pest

but see himself as an aviator,

a hero of the World War.

Or maybe about a Dean Young’s moose

in lyrical fashion

I would rather a write an article

interviewing a worm,

half-drowned by the August rains

about the dire situation of the ravenous seagulls.

I have tried to do the taxes of the ant colony but

their deductions got too complicated, too many pheromones

or the romance novel of bees.

I would prefer to write an encyclopedia of famous beetles

in their little impeccable hats and their striking moustaches

or lacey parasols.

I won’t write about the ballet of spiders

that pirouette around the windowsill,

tip toe across the floor.

I just won’t.





Poem 8: Questions

When is a kiss not a kiss?

a slapping together of lips

an infestation of tongues

What is a kiss?

dance of the eyelashes

a covered smile

tips of hands meeting, a second

When does not a kiss become a kiss?

When does love not become love?

a gasp of a letter

the smell of a single yellow petal

a whistled ditty becoming a symphony of their voice.

Poem 6: Eternity Now

Eternity Now

I don’t know what I want

but I want it now

You never live once

failure is the only option

turn around and say goodbye

to your Euridice

seize the death

Death to your answers

evermore evermore

endless summer


blessed night

Poem 5: Humidity

Cymbals of lightening

chant of thunder

the dance of rain

orchestral thunderstorms

symphony of summer

Poem 4: Patterns

checkered shirt, checkered past

heart shaped buttons, heart of gold

sunflower print pants, sunny disposition

diamond studded skulls, diamonds in her eyes

clothing, personality


an inverted telescope of the soul

into the world

Poem 3: Cuppa Tea

Nothing as perfect

as a steaming up of tea

in thin, transparent china,

thrown against a wall.

Nothing as exquisite

as a pretty in pink petit fours

on a rose bespeckled platter

smashed into a pillow

or a vase of white roses

ripped apart like paper.

Why a tempest in a teapot?

Why not a teapot in the tempest?

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