Dream through a dirty window

Through hickory and fading sun,
rolling thunder always moves
faster than the spread of interstate

As plain as the nose I can’t quite see
on my face, I saw
God’s eye in a bunny cloud
lying in wait
for the cross-eyed man
to leave the Allentown diner
(where hopes were slim
and booths sticky)

A waitress poured more coffee
and the sky looked like
an upside-down jello mold-
the kind I don’t like
with extraneous bits of fruit
stuck in limbo

Tip calculations and gorged sighs
speak to the balance of
living a dream through a dirty window

August 24, 2016 0

No harbor

There are no endings – nothing lasts;
it’s a delicate balance
I walk, like a jester
(or a boy I knew in college)
with too many heavy balls to carry…
laughing through awkward pauses.
Do I really make any difference
in a single day? Of course not.
I’m the mistress of Harvey the rabbit,
a virtual pet,
a mother of teenagers,
between gigs and looking…
but there is no harbor,
just a boat in dry dock
and it’ll be awhile until it rains.

August 23, 2016 2

Silent moondance

Making it in silence
like Theda Bara
with a moon over her shoulder
and a man at her neck,
nuzzled and twisted
– no time for rest while
being speared senseless from behind
(who says she needed an apple crate?).
She liked her neck bent too far…

Men like Boris and Buster
sneezed magic into small frames
but the beast used the whole
damn landscape to woo her
into submission, a relatively common
mid-century bracket
explained by talking animals
and hifalutin dance moves (in capes).

Moaning is meaningless
unless someone’s there to catch it.
Her release sounded like shuffling
and looked like a Ferris wheel
from beneath, all spun glitter,
tales of derring-do spilling from cars
into a thick night.