The sun is too hot – it always is,
a single lock of hair on your cheek
scrolls a shadow where I’m lost in whorls
of deep affection, a whirlpool of your gaze,
the tangle of arms and lips, you are scented
everywhere of salts, soaps and time.
© Chagall 2016
I’m so sorry you misunderstood,
I came back to meet you merely halfway.
© Chagall 2016
Be on with it. Nothing to see here. Move along.
© Chagall 2016
While watched pots might never boil
Those left alone inevitably burst into flames
© Chagall 2016
Let go into the uncharted – no, that’s not wholly correct
Lift the veil and merge – yes, better
Aimlessly, irresponsibly drown
© Chagall 2016
She had a snood for every mood, a cowl for each scowl
Though she rarely employed a scarf or dickey
© Chagall 2016
One wonders why
two people will fret over the utterance of
three syllables
for naught.
© Chagall 2016
As we pan away from the planet and
the Earth recedes to a bead of turquoise on a black silk matte,
it’s important to note that none of the Earthlings is visible.
© Chagall 2016
While emptying the dishwasher, I asked him if
he would kindly separate the spoons, tea from table.
That was when he got abusive, around the very same time
he accidentally ran into the waffle pan.
© Chagall 2016
Please know that Carlos Chagall does not endorse violence of any kind, but I do chuckle at Roadrunner cartoons.
Another year and the war would end
but on the day my friend Johnny died
the triangle of his flag hung looking
over the city from his mom’s window.
The summer we were ten he stands in a sprinkler,
in his boxers (not really a swimsuit) with
the biggest grin because it’s vacation and
life is good and the ice man is coming and
we’ve got a dollar to share.
© Chagall 2106
Alphabet City 