REVIVAL
Still I will water you
and find your weed-like self
wild and stubborn
easily beautiful
bursting with love and life
humor and irony
and smiles
and pleasures
a blossoming rose.
You are loved.
After today’s night
there will be fresh-squeezed orange juice
in a shapely crystal glass.
Even your tongue will arise and smile.
BREAKFAST
I am going to eat the love you sent
for breakfast,
with milk in an old bowl
using my favorite spoon.
Today I will eat it sitting down,
coffee too.
If someone asks how was breakfast
I will say lovely,
or love they
or love tip to toe
or loved up and down.
Yes. Loved up and down.
That’s what I will say.
BLUE
It’s not like
the slow dance after drinks
wasn’t smooth,
or the pirouettes touching skin
weren’t smart,
But the fudge in his jaw,
praline pecan sweet and tart
startled enough
to let wonderings of love
creep into the song
where there was room between the flanks
to let a title slide.
The trumpet hooted long slow trills,
riffs to make hand clappers glad
foot tappers too.
But not me
Not you
Not blue.
- Published 10/14/2014 Crab Orchard Review
JUST THINKING
I’d like to write a poem
even though I’ve been absent here
for so long.
As long as I’ve been absent,
that’s how long it’s been since
I’ve written a poem.
I’m not sure I remember how to write one,
or what it would look like
when I was done.
I’d probably look at the words
and say, is that a poem?
And then, where could I find the answer?
And then I would’ve posted something
as if it were a poem,
pretending it was a poem,
even wishing it were a poem,
and everyone would be laughing
and saying, that’s no poem,
it’s just chewing gum.
And then I wouldn’t feel like
the cat’s meow
or even someone who caught a fish.
But the bottom of my shoes
wouldn’t be virginal anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment