Category Archives: #poetry

Five Fountains

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Here, we
Eyeball people
Speak fine body language:
Haphazard stretchers, you dancers
Must walk

*

Now, we
Eardrummers hear
How summer’s snuck into
Your stoic, winter poetry
Talk right

*

To touch
Is divine but
To grab is a crime but
To grip is to get it – do you
Feel me?

*

Forget
Those rosemary
Flowers sprouting outside
Ten hundred buildings in my mind?
Herb oil’s
Soaked through
My ten fingers to those chicken
Bones, limp sprigs, garlic bread
Crusts (“Scrape your plate!”)
Forget?

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Oh no, no – I know his set:
A man who’s managed
To miss every single solar
And every lunar eclipse
A guy who’s great with kids
But can’t handle pets
(I guess because they’re animals)
He tests my suspension bridge
Every time he goes off script
And I can tell when he wants to:
He swings out from behind his irises
And here comes this thing he has to say

Vow

2 Replies

When even the reaper’s
Too flummoxed to cut
The gaunt stalks of flax
From the hillside,

When the mice fail
To find their burrows
And the ants have become
Individuals,

When the geese fly east
Along the equator
And human nature is to turn
Each against the other,

I will seek you out
To ask a favor
And offer my gloves
In return