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Friday, October 20, 2017

Prosecco



You pinch the cool, thin stem,
coax bubbles along your tongue,
and turn your leash to silent.
As light as a child's Christmas,
prosecco suspends time, skips
through sips of contradiction.
The driest drink, it evaporates
deliriously, an apparently innocuous
phantom flirtation.

Monday, October 2, 2017

Ten Bears in a Bed





Ten bears in a bed and one got a gun,
just enough room for American fun.
He growled and glowered "We will be fine."
"I protect mine," and then there were nine.
Mama Bear broke a plate and then there were eight:
she made room in Heaven and now they were seven.
"You'd best take your licks," the bear sneered, and then six.
They still could have thrived, but suddenly five.
One ran for the door, and then there were four.
He looked at his daughter, she could make more.
But she tried to flee, so then there were three.
He still wanted room, so he took it to two.
His own eyes in his son, he could not make it one.
But the boy played the hero.
And now it is zero.

Monday, September 11, 2017

When it works


The pleasure of owning a painting
is the tracing of strokes, the unique
knowledge of the path. Everyone
can look, but you control the touch.
When it works, love is the same.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Gilded


Certain moments are given gilded.
Weddings, births, romantic confessions are
inherently cinematic and surreal,
but without connections, they roll
away like man-made pearls. All
of the big little words are in the moments
between the photo opportunities.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Filtered Unfocused


Slink through pink cellophane,
wrap your frame in foundation,
layers of thrift thin rejuvenation.
Hands slide so easily over facades,
even the most tactile playmate
keeps ignorant bliss to your flaws.
Beauty is best filtered unfocused,
then the beholder becomes owner.


Monday, August 28, 2017

the dizzying down


We turn in circles to see straight,
spiral higher scaling staircases
to find the freedom of far and wide.
Above it all, anything can happen.
Plans are made in towers, breath held,
but the trick is to keep the scenery
even as your feet fall faster back;
don't drown in the dizzying down.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Scotland




Beautiful, cool, prosaic, Scotland
slipped through me like the ghost
of someone I never knew. Quiet,
unchallenging, train rides and
sedately punctual schedules
suit the land of tea and halibut.
It's kissing your grandmother's cheek.
But Italy, oh, the noise and chaos,
cappuccino and cacophony,
tapestry and pastries richly filigreed,
arrogance that swans and stalks --
now that will leave you breathless.