Grip you
pull yo . . .
oh boy, I can see
I’ve already lost you
No?
. . . u in.
Chagall 2015
Tag Archive: wordplay
Does anybody
any longer
yet dot their j?
Chagall 2015
She asked if I thought I could fix it
I said sure, your Hotspot is off
A simple hand gesture to toggle that button
Should make all your blues go away
Olé!
Chagall 2015
I am a mob of one on the flash
A pulmonary conviction
The membrane of your choice
I am the Matador, Sinewy Eros
Entangling horns as they come
Nearer to thee than the moon
Dear Gaia
I am millions of deities rolled into One
A lozenge, a salve, a breath mint
As a harpsichord I traipse the body luscious
The perennial you plant
Every year hoping
Ground-breaking rip-roaring shattered
Glass
Jagged shards, Green clovers, Pink moons
Lucky charms and amulets
Around your ankles and thighs
Tigers and bears
Oh my!
Chagall 2015
When she was a child we played a game
we pretended to be high on a cliff at the edge
losing grip on our footing we’d plummet
down off the bed as if from Everest
at the last minute grabbing hands in mid-air
in outstretched rescue every sinewy muscle
straining to hold onto life. She writes
that it’s readied her well for the fight,
she loves me, it’s time to let go.
Chagall 2015
Sound as light
upon blond lashes,
breath in a whisper
punctuates consonants
softly on eardrum cilia.
Such ticklish fancies.
Chagall 2015
Merely an experimental malaise
spiraling numbly, likewise nimbly
the lame slither askew off the walkway
while naked dancers waltz precariously
too close to be social.
Chagall 2015
I was rocking a Lower East Side tee
the kind with a map on front
when a pigeon released herself from high
and it landed on the site I was born
© Chagall 2015
When bringing stuff
to the compost heap
or even to the dump
you have to know when
not to breathe.
© Chagall 2015
Such sorrow to discover
she really believed
in emojis.
© Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 