It’s a sweet thing
to find an object
of joy
just out of reach;
there’s always
somewhere
to go.
Schlock timing
Sitting in a ghost-place
with upended furniture
and leftover gravy,
an overwhelming urge
to do an Ethel Merman impression
is making me giggle inside
but I sit stoically
with only a twitching eyebrow
betraying my ill-timed mirth.
The Beverly
The parquet expanse
glossy built-ins
purple tile
paisley curtain
saffron in the rickety cupboard;
bus schedules
solitude and “Starry Night.”
.
A piece
of fractured fairy tale
green and gold
no valet but an intercom
where the soul would be.
.
There’s always a streetlight
in the Big Moments;
sometimes it’s unlit.
Dig In
You can’t force joy,
though the fucking hyacinths
floating on the damn spring breeze
sure make a go of it;
if only
we can meet them where they bloom.
The Word Rummager 