You begin this way:

This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world,
which is round but not flat and has more colors
than we can see.

what will the waves do with their fury?

Paint the scene now, before ship takes a dive.

Take Them Off!

Who is the Weakest Link?

be not proud

What I pull out may render sad or jolly; Too big for my britches?

The Race

Every race needs a winner.

coup de grâce

He takes his finger and puts it to my chest.

Soon the Sun Will Be Blazing

Though today
We are
Dazing
While mindlessly
Grazing

When Perfection Eludes

I’m in here.
Scared to death
When perfection eludes.

Mr. Fletcher, my dear.

Such a claim to…
ignominious… glory?

the ursine fur I bear

how did we go from
hairy bodies with clean faces
to bare skin and bushy beards?

Drove along, he did.

He doesn’t come / when you call / usually.