Dead deer
Mangled roadside
Magnet for foul vultures
Disgusting but necessary
Cycle
* * *
Lost watch
Sturdy Timex
Down the open sewer grate
Ticking somewhere in the darkness
Faint heart
* * *
Bad apple
Mealy skinned, soft
Not fit for beast nor man
Bite I wish I’d never taken
Blame Eve
* * *
Good grub
Shrimp tempura
Drizzled hot & sweet sauce
My love has seafood allergies
My gain
* * *
Bad boys
Drink and cuss much
Anyone tell you that?
Hell yeah, let’s go another round
Clean fun
dawn’s dog mouth already yawns
to reveal its pink anatomy,
the river lolling its wet tongue
light pools on the floorboards,
licks at the legs of a chair,
finds my dress hanging there
it’s time to play
the lovers who will strut
through separate rooms
as the day commits
to its terms and conditions
you hold me as though the doorstep
were a cliff-edge
light-headed,
I wade through this air
clear as cold water
we know the body is a bad historian
and we suck
the marrow of this moment
pressed to the wall,
we lick our delicious wound
outside, a bus coughs the day back into life
i never meant to leave
a trail of pebbles
back to you
and I so don’t
and here you are
saying this was beautiful you
are beautiful
tracing
my shadow on the wall
with red lipstick
I’m sick with these
From whence does all this clutter come
When clutter there was not before?
It seems to suddenly appear
The second I walk out my door
The cluttered pages—all receipts
From shopping at the grocery store
Or advertisements mailmen left
Inside the box by my front door
The cluttered boxes, cluttered bags
New fabrics as the seasons change
A laundry mess from laundry room
And from my closet, rearranged
The cluttered toys, a Lego set
A gift from a well-meaning friend
And puzzles that I’ve not solved yet
From series I would recommend
The cluttered books sat on the shelves
From writers old, and new, and dear
Some that I’ve had since age of twelve
Some borrowed, now suddenly here
Seems clutter here and clutter there
All piled upon my once clean floor
Was clutter there and clutter here
From spots beyond my bedroom door
I
Kohen* abdicate.
Never
will I step
into
the holy
of holies
The
rabbis republic
displaces
my house
of high priests
which
is how the
world
wills it
I
think this
while
breaking matzah
with
lanzmen**
who
look back
only back
their
words I can
repeat
in my sleep
&
They I know
will
always sleep
*Kohen (pronounced Ko-hain in Hebrew) is a high priest of Israel or a descendant of high priests.
**Lanzmen is a Yiddish word for countrymen or compatriots, usually referring to fellow Jews.
Teacher urges the dream emerge—and I resist
her gifts—sycamore figs, a skin of creamy wine—
blessed boons that I resist. I escape by leaps
low into water—and submerge where darkness lies.
I resist the tick-a-snap of turtle song and diving eel
to breathe brackish salt—resist tickles by fish, resist
tinkling scales—such notes, always noting my body
far dips in gloom, purging light. I resist.
I return anew at once—Ali-baba, the blooming koi,
scales iridescent as pearl—I surface! I resist! Rebel.
My teacher catches me and fries me for our school,
and food for you. Snatched in my vigor—
because I resist. Author, what teacher would teach
the student to let it emerge, and savor his resistance?
“We keep it light
She approached as I rested on the bench
her attention drawn to him,
who at first scurried under the bench
fearful but slowly allowed her to pat
his white furry head.
She stayed for over 20 minutes sharing
her loneliness for her pets, her people,
ethnic food from her home- India.
A graduate student living in dorms
close by to this gorgeous Arboretum,
studying Social Work with her husband,
who was sleeping after working
a night shift on break from classes.
This chance meeting would never
occurred without Percy,
the ambassador of love and affection.
