Glorious sun in the sky this morning.
Today is my birthday – thank you, Mom.
Chagall 2019
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I open the window and summer rolls in,
but not this summer, instead it’s one
from many years ago
I can smell mom’s cooking on the breeze,
and hear my dad call to circle under
the towering pop-fly he’s thrown
Air brakes of busses long gone to scrap,
the perfumed girls of then, I close
my eyes to journey
Behind my lids
I see light fade
then brighten
I pretend to need
to be home at six
That’s when
supper’s on
Chagall 2019
The only cultures alive today and worth their weight, are my own,
namely: my kimchi, my sourdough, and my heirloom yogurt.
The rest, who cares?
Chagall 2019
near Mrs.: almost getting caught being around married women
Chagall 2019
Found her today at the ocean,
her heart tossed away to the sea,
she’ll no longer love by the river,
she leaves her home by the bay
She said “…there’s no need for other people,”
lately she’d lost all her point of view
about living
Misses the waves
Chagall 2019
My mom, small as she was,
with her bare hands,
could open any jar
Chagall 2019
Planted seven trees today:
apple, pear, apple, pear, apple, pear, pecan
In ten years time
I will make pies and compote
for family and friends
If you have a calf, please bring whipped cream
Chagall 2019
the phantom turns
to see me approach,
in pelting rain, blinded,
I’ve my grandmother’s heart
to protect me, the last remnant
of her voice in my mind propels me
over the rise, on level ground at maximum acceleration
I plunge into the specter screaming her name
Chagall 2019
oddly, lately
I am blue
after sex,
life’s weight,
the moment,
immediacy,
intimacy,
endless sky
above, us
so small,
we are,
our joy,
to revel,
two seek,
nil beyond
the blue
Chagall 2019
A shadow of a bird flutters
about shadows of limbs
on the ground
Circles of light
where her eyes are
Our sun would cast shadow
if under and dwarfed
by another sun from above
Chagall 2019
