Pandora’s Bananas

A year ago, it was all bananas
and he called me Pandora
because my box
still held mystery.
An amazing grace
comprised of glazed
nuts and ribald banter
made for a perfect day
– and I relive it over and over
in hopes of achieving
full enlightened monty.
New angles and dangling bits
grow longer with late day
shadows. I am a shadow.

Forced entrenchment

broad, absent-minded
trembling tenor,
an aftertaste of swiss on rye.
Cut across the back
stippled in shade
– shhh, it’ll fade,
atop a green hill
in ever-present sun.
Hidden in
forced nostalgia
with a side of
saddle shoes and fries.
Wailing window
speeding to the tune
of good ol’ daddios
replete with backup dancers
and a cigarette left to burn.
in the form of
thrown slippers knocking breath
against teeth, a reckoning.

Restless in Valhalla

Crumbling rock
is easy on the eyes,
the same way moss calls me
to rest my limbs

My spirit is restless;
there’s no Valhalla
I’ve yet touched
I imagine it’s a cozy grey

Rest is a trial
but I’m a success
in that I can breathe
over and over again

They want to discard me
because fixing is too hard
and there’s relative ease
in anonymous landfills

I soar when no one’s looking
but I try to kiss
every cracked rock
and mossy patch I see

We will winter

There are whole days now where you don’t know anything about me.
Seasons pass and I pretend we’re walking together, holding hands beneath the cherry blossoms.
I imagine others are hiding in bomb shelters while we stick out tongues out to catch sun rays.
I laugh to myself inside my pea coat and whisper, “May I have this dance?” but your feet have become rooted.
Terrors strike those behind me and I can hear discontent but I see a path to the sea.
I think it all leads back to the sea, whether it’s starry or foggy or green or aflame, and we better be ready for the big plunge.
I will sail with you and we will sing quietly as the wind takes us beyond ourselves into sweet oblivion.

Feathery touch

An echoey tremor,
they sang
near the wall
and all the snow birds
slowed to listen.
Just enough light
to get home,
they leaned together
in a huddle
for warmth of spirit.

They hope
tomorrow brings more song
and feathery touch.

Website Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: