Stir Crazy
Eight days of rain and he’s climbing the door jambs,
bare feet and spine wedged against the molding,
clothing strewn below.
He inches up: Mommy, look at me!
Going out doesn’t help.
Continue reading… "Stir Crazy"Category / Poetry
Park Bench Behind the Diamond
On the other side,
of the viridescent fence—
upturned chain-link at the feet
trench too small
for our torn
Math Girls of 8th Grade
Through the window I saw
you this morning talking,
counseling, I guess you could say,
those girls who draw blousy flowers
on the board in your classroom
I Had Two Great Dreams for My Body
Tonight listening to you falling asleep 900 miles away
I talk about the kitten’s cottony belly, his ruthless teeth,
not saying any of the other,
feeling the searing holes there below, here above
and I realize the oily undreamt dream I’ve been given;
Continue reading… "I Had Two Great Dreams for My Body"Spreading Jam
Morning and again,
mind’s eye has her spreading jam,
all the greater sadness
left to rest of day.
The Romantic
A man says he carries letters
in Portland, Oregon.
Not that he is a letter carrier
or mailman,
but that he is “a man who carries
letters.”
Strange Blue Moon
Long ago we quit offering our tails
like the others—prairie chicken, peacock—
though we gasp when they tremble
to beckon a mate. Even the wild turkey
that once climbed our neighbor’s roof
Atlantis Sabotaged
You sat at your computer, watched me
play with our granddaughter,
listened to us invent a world
of mermaids and magic wands
where dreams bloom large as sunflowers.
[mother in 64]
sticks rubbery thin
the kind my mother called a switch
broke skin on her legs
since father caught her in mud
with white church shoes
Martha Jane Canary Tries AA
She’s back to the bottle again,
after an early fever that gambled
away its taint on a sucker’s bet
that the bulldog at her throat
could be traded for a nice coffee