She was slippery, like a wet tangerine seed sliding across a slick tile floor, a trail of sweet streaks I dim the desk-lamp low, and sweep away the fine leather blotter, for what is the point Somewhere something is burning, kindled, aflame, charred petals of burnt flowers, atop the heady salt of sweet grass sisi: Chagall 2021
Category: Poetry
I know what you want I said sexily And I proceeded to fold her fitted sheets, one by one, hot - straight out of the dryer cc: Chagall 2021
I reached out and up and caught a raindrop once that had fallen, after days of no rain, the sole drop splattered there on my sleeve, a tiny main island surrounded by aqueous archipelago Micronesia birthed from four thousandths a milligram of raindrop splayed on my shirt's gray cotton And I watched as it didn't fade-away for nearly an hour In the end I bid it adieu, and smeared the drop's remnants finally with my thumb, the tiny beads of water dissolving through the fabric touching the skin beneath my sleeve, colder than I'd anticipated Enough weight and wet to instill a shiver cc: Chagall 2021
Years go fast – 4 years ago, today, from Paul Lenzi, Click thru to the original.
“Abstract Brain” by Jack Davis
You disappear in the light
after spending the night in my head,
taking back what you gave me,
the crystals and gems
I have no chance to wrap up in muslin.
You just snatch them right out of my brain,
assembling kaleidoscopes
inside your pockets,
already too full of
amnesia built up
of so many bland
indigestible sleeps.
But for whom will they sparkle
their herringbone joinery?
Are there eyes in your pockets,
amygdalic orbs
set among that detritus
of subconscious chattels?
Surely not mine.
That intricate overstock,
hard with translucence,
must be intended for somebody else.
Unless you have notion
to bring them again. Is that how you play?
Giving and taking, over and over,
the same limbic baubles
you won’t let my open eyes see?
If so then I beg,
before vanishing next time,
please leave me
a name, or a smell,
some…
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Isn't it fortuitous, this time just the two of us? cc: Chagall 2021
As I defrost my frozen yogurt culture, I bid them Godspeed. might they find happiness for generations, as they populate my milk offerings, and enjoy my controlled environments, propagating liters of fresh probiotic dairy for my flora to enjoy God is amazing. God is Good. I will take care of you, as you would me And someday I shall freeze you again cc: Chagall 2021
If only for a moment, if only for one day, one night, if only Never in a lifetime, never in a year, throughout all seasons If only we'd remember, if only we knew, love long ago Never comes again, though seasons turn sad to summer cc: Chagall 2021
These Chicago-hardy figs are producing nothing here in hearty New England Maybe Chicago ain't what it used to be cc: Chagall 2021
When I die, don't mourn or pray, instead I feel, I'd respond better to subtle puzzles you might ponder whose solution is me ...and I would pop on the other side, if only for a moment... tethered in your space yet unbounded still as no ripple on a pond deep within the closed eye of you surrounded by no time surrounded by all time such is prayer, such is death? (no god is God, as God is god, you whisper, then you ponder, and You?) And I pop for that moment cc: Chagall 2021
There are many of you, well organized, strong, brave, determined So have your own revolution, there where You live! Stop riding on the coattails of my dead sons and daughters cc: Chagall 2021
Alphabet City 