BEGINNINGS
early spring messy
winters refuse
exposed underfoot
the rain
like tears
removes the grit
spurring growth
ORATOR
head rocking
ass righteously wide
she wags her finger
making a point loudly
to thin air
FRIDAY NIGHT
Measured step mounting the stairs
Have I misbehaved and
will I be punished or
have I been good
And may have a moments time,
Either way, dad's home
VISITOR
Pulling blonde hair from
the pillow,just wanting
to remove the evidence from a
room that is off-limits
CHEAP DATE
A six pack a sorry excuse
For Saturday company
cool and blonde but only
borrowed, just fleeting solace
a one night stand
flushed away
sparing an awkward parting
or naked lies
FLAMENCO
Swirling out from under the arch
bright plumage flaring in the heat
dark beauties, haughty chins, tawny limbs
twirl across the veranda, heels clacking
staccato passion on a canvas of feverish guitars
SCRAPPER
Grinding, chewing
Metal rendered shrieking
Spitting fist sized chunks
Of my old Buick
JUNKYARD
Snow covered hulks
long abandoned
rust in peace
THE PROMISE
Despite the cold, it
smells of spring this morning,
and though the gray slush
has crusted overnight,
the promise of warmth,
of life, wriggling in a brown womb,
surges beneath the still surface.
A current yet unseen,
only felt, pulsing, awaiting it's turn,
now impatient to clothe the earth in lushness.
SWING
Dancing in the living room,
choosing tunes that speak more
eloquently than our feeble words,
swinging and twisting,
your surprise that I can lead,
my delight that you let me,
eye to eye in embrace, the perfect height
molded together, swaying, softly murmuring
the words, until, attempting a dip,
we fall, laughing, to the
gold flecked, sculpted brown carpet.
FADE OUT
Hands in pockets
collar upturned
expensive shoes worn thin
no longer welcome in
halls of commerce
out of place on the row
with the others
not quite mad and
not quite broke
past bitterness
grey streets, grey sky
monochromatic existence
TRANSMUTATION
At the mirror
her skin not her own
amazed at swollen breasts
just months removed from pertness
areolas targets for an unborn mouth
abdomen taut, distended
angry stretch marks
instead of the sleek belly
she had worked so hard for
not sure she believes him
when he tells her she is beautiful
AQUANAUT
Toes like cashews
Curled on the precipice
poised, water dripping from
her ears, liquid diamonds
spatter at her feet
in a slowly growing puddle
her beautiful eyes
obscured by blue goggles
she grins a big-toothed
loopy grin and
launches herself
AT THE CLUB
Sauntering into perpetual night
Blue haze frames expectant faces
that want to believe the lies
that spout from a bottles neck
or a strangers lips
time measured not by clocks
but by money left or spent
incessant posturing and posing
genuineness scarce and not expected
and sadly
a liability on this stage
NEAR MISS
Idle chatter in a steel can
gentle rocking and cold beer
the evening routine broken
by the gasp of emergency brakes
the regulars know this isn't good and
morbidly press their faces to the windows to see the cause
as they slow
A man with upturned cart stands swaying
too close to the crossing
his belongings scattered by the boundary flow
papers and clothes, a pair of pants
flapping like a large bird trying to take flight
Train at rest, the chalk faced conductor
with blue suit and black boots
clambers into the car
Uneasy silence as he rings the engineer
Turning
"He saw kids on the tracks" he wheezes
and climbs down again
Joined by others, their flashlights
flicking golden tongues on the
greasy teeth of the train, hoping not
to find the remnants of an ill-timed meal
Moments slide wetly into minutes
cell phones passed around, pre-explaining
missed connections, and uneasiness
clothes the passengers
until the grimacing conductor reappears
and calls the engineer, "Near miss
Bob, Highball!"
Lurching, and then once again underway
one of the regulars calls out, "Beer me!"
the routine re-established
