SMILE
Steve hangs towels up
to dry, terrycloth pigeons.
He remembers towel-slapping
boys in gym, how he often
got caught looking at the gym
ceiling. Coach yelled.
Steve smiled. When in doubt,
smile, and maybe they'll
go away. To this day,
the smile stuck. When he's
in trouble at work,
he smiles, is considered
"easy to work with." He hides
the smile in his briefcase
at 5 p.m., locks it in
a strongbox at home,
scared it might get out
while he's sleeping,
wind around his throat,
do him in.
¤ ¤ ¤
RED RIDING HOOD AT 51
Redwoods are still
kids at 51. I sag more
each year but I throw
my cosmetics in a bog,
give lichen that realistic
fake glow, don't put
calories on an abacus,
visit oaks, crave
shade sinking through me,
providing a dark
place to dream in.
¤ ¤ ¤
FIRST
First define me
as a lifestyle choice--
the rest comes easily
and quickly.
Those who are
open
get shut
up, shut down
for the good
of the family,
put under
surveillance
or put under
ground. Handing out
Bibles
at the stonings,
they read passages,
sing. We're
examples,
things: easy
to kill
a thing,
easier still
to forget
you did it.
