A talisman for pinches,
we wore shades of emerald,
forest, grass and lime
as badges of a country
we imagined stuffed with leprechauns.
Poem : The End of Summer After His Second Marriage
Barbie doll in hand,
they push her sobbing
into the front seat.
Poem : The Worst Way to End It
4 months away from those 2 weeks
sheet wrapped together, I prearrange
seating arrangements in my head
until you are stuck across the room.
Poem : Routine
Bill felt he was born for this. Eating lunch as he watched numbers scroll a board, sift through e-mails, organize filing cabinets. Each day itemized by activity. Carefully scheduled and planned. On Fridays, he’d wear his dress down tie and have obligatory post work drinks.
Read MorePoem : Treetop canopies
Green struggles under
dark glasses sunblocking bare earth,
rain a distant dream.
Poem : Possible futures
I dreamed of you: a pea under my pillow,
shoots curling round stubby fingers,
summer lake cottages with star blankets.
Poem : Stuffed
You plug ears with cotton
nod in time to lip movements
and promise moonbeams to the sun.
Your kind trade player card lives
with mates in white suits
saying yes over and over
when you really mean no.
Read MorePoem : Pilot Season
Beside me, you dig your fingers
into the top of my hand
the skin edging white
a spreading pressure stain