There’s a small bird
stays to have a look
with a tik tok head
puts its trust for a time
~who sent you, little one?~
to eye me up
to tweet a tsk tsk
yet sweetly insist
on a finger perch?
A bit of small talk,
I think,
would be nice.
Monthly Archives: December 2020
Analysis (a haiku)
Kindergarten times
Everyday monsters in mind
Ancestors of now
Look to the warmth
Cast your line into the soft static of six days from now.
Feet up, warm cup,
and let someone in.
One who’s been down.
Yes, that’s the one,
my love.
Mutuals
~Fifty said to Fifty~
Time is growing short, growing cold. Know that i will be with you, all the way to the next time. Be on guard, lest I drift into the lock of sleep. Charge through the night, that you may play in broad day. Put away the fearsome fear, until another year.
Premature
Lady dons her neoprene. Keys the code for vault exit, turns on the ultraviolet of her divers’ mask. Steps into the sad street, and the ionized rain pelts her with soft seltzer. Today, like yesterday, there’s no gas to run the diggers. Cleanup, burials. She calls a spade a spade.
A brush with life
I tried a brush of camel hair
for what it did to gauze
Too brash it was to have a care
and so it gave me pause
Your marble eyes
of gimlet guise
demand a fine detail
A painter’s hand
an exercise
in Art beyond the pale
Flattery will get you somewhere
My head is turned
by a siren’s accolades
and all other voices
of the moment
come as bothersome braying
murderous crows
Aremyfeetofftheground 