Poetry
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termites’ demise
if only I could turn the whole structure inside out
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termites
they are winning
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lost in translation
repeated efforts, demands, to get accurate translation all in vain.
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chicken little?
I fear you’ll think that I’m not sane my brain in pain
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In Between
Once you leave In Between from “was” to “is” only memory can really take you back.
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the lair
I was ten or eleven, you may recall everything seems bigger when you’re small
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Three Stars
I admit the possibility of a system issue on my end.
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nightmare
Frogs, fingers, “we only want you” this poem becomes a witch’s brew
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lifehill
“There’s no chairlift in sledding!” I shout to the lighthearted in skis. Envious? Likely.
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VIRUS
Reality is a harsh mistress. She seems straight-up at first but then she throws a curve and a sharp angle. Downward.
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Drop the Sneakers
privilege pervades prejudice persists “woke” won’t work, not nearly enough.
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ypokrités
If a picture paints a thousand words I could post one now and be done.
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First Time
I find Firsts are a curious combination of Impulse and Obligation.
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Prayer Chain – circa 1996
Long-forgotten vibrations emanate from my hip awakening latent longings for simpler times
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Butter Ball
What some folks will believe, huh?
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Nameless Graces
How can I not “wax poetic” when dispassionate prattle fails to ignite the flame of a candle worth holding?
