Archive for December, 2020


The Transom

my grandfather's shed was a chicken coop
though he never kept any chickens there
with gravel floor and bees
right over the door 
which made leaving hard
a large rock-hive
holed and teeming
built in the studded eave
outside the coop 
grandpa smoking 
L&Ms burning leaves
at night when the air is cool

cc: CC 2020

By The Light Of Lanterns

the shadows of stamped-brass
replicas of birds shone dazzlingly
on the mesh of porch screen
it's morning some Tuesday in time
with such fine Monday preceding
today when cold air-sun is the order
of the day: today I expel newfound rhythm
less random inhalation now I exhale, 
find the time 

not all can be neither

my memories remain 
a weathered knot I tie loosely about 
my heathered heart, my ear alert to any call
to come love 

the best is yet to come, Love

my eyes peeled
nay, pealed - really ringing!
whenever I see

to say all 
that soft lips would otherwise
touch upon lightly 
about gentle flutter
golden gutter-birds 
at play 

astray
shadows astride
a fine meshed line

cc: CC 2020





The Visit

My eyes as they are
I now prefer to stay
overnight and leave
in the beautiful
breaking sun 
of new day

cc: CC 2020
I want only good things to happen for you
and when those don't I feel really bad
so I bear the difference 

Chagall 2020

Hon’…huh?

despite appearances
all is exactly as it seems

staid and stale
even while nascent

cc:  CC 2020 

Ointment

my spirit so
unlike my hands
does not chafe
then bleed
with repeated washing

fall back 
into the water

I let my heart
be buoyed

delight
in the light

cc: CC 2020

Pat-A-Cake…





keep your oven trays clean, my friends,
lest your gingerbread taste like beef

cc: CC 2020

This is reality, Greg

eternity today
is no longer
a tale 
of two mirrors

cc: CC

The Name I’m In

with my inside out, among the lint and pebbly motes that
line the frayed seam, there in the dimpled corner of the pocket,
lies the forgotten

with a contorted wrist and extended fingertip I burrow
and I search and I probe and I find

among the bunched fabric
a hole

hope
on the rug

oddly no dreams
leaked

those instead 
tend to seep

content 
unsafe
so fragile

once
back inside
the pour
I felt
I felt
I felt

cc: CC 2020

Coup de Grace

all we need now 
is for fucking extraterrestrials
to show up 

cc: CC 2020
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