a paranoid thought to a real possibility
open containers—
real vulnerability—
did she poison it?
parallel lives fuse
it took thirty years
so many empty-handed sunsets
i love you
hispanic streets conjuring ghosts
grey clouds mask the sky—
beyond the cemetery—
i dream of lost love
haiku for Chris at the Exchange #1
small-talk bartender
asks me how i am doing—
“all right man, all right.”
the evil one
pat’s cat has one eye—
a bastard born for no one—
now both are complete
I should not picture
you at night awake in bed
asleep or at all
Nervous fingers touch.
Heat rises from toes to cheeks.
Lips press together.
i.
Sunrise lights his belt
Wordlessly, the bed is made
Tucks me in tightly
ii.
I open the door–
Spotless and out of order.
I know you were here.
iii.
Get out of my house.
This is not where you belong.
Not in my life. No.
iv.
You roll up my sleeve
So gently, you watch my face
And we’re both smiling
v.
I’m at the market
You’re working and smile at me
My stomach lurches
vi.
A teacher, a friend
Who will not remember me
As time spins its wheels
vii.
You, an eighth my size,
Soft with a wet and dark nose
You are my best friend.
Two cows in a field
One ruminates on mad cow
Friend thinks she’s a duck
Checking messages:
Pug snuffles at his front gate
Eleven missed calls
Please go away moths
Find other stars to orbit
I just want to pee!
One dives, then it’s mate
Magpies dive bomb hapless hawk
To drive it away
Fish and chips for lunch
By the beach – kiwi classic
Ambushed: Damned seagulls!
Scarecrow had one job
Shoo the birds, not be a perch
Now home to three nests
Blown lightbulb goes dim
Winds up in the sea, broken
Now houses hermit crab
Like fractured fuchsias,
this tortuous ego breaks our
bond into fragments.
Haiku I
Cozy in your arms
Balancing our heartbeats like
One fine symphony
Haiku II
Kiss me tenderly
a bee kissing a flower
Cross pollination
Haiku III
One kiss helps us start
Two kisses to win your heart
Three we make the art
water in my palm
rain, ocean, mist, and river
one name then many
The bedroom gets dark,
and then I remember you:
gone, like the light, gone
s the shape of my boredom the shape of a good poem?
Are the curves of the electric blue Prime bottle
that I bought from the corner store the other day
enough to excite your imagination?
Do the pencils strewn across the bed,
amongst a small bottle of hand sanitiser
and a beanie constitute quality?
Would orange juice reconstitute quality?
What about silk sheets? Or a Mazerati?
Is content king?
Or is it form?
Do you need a fluctuation of phrase
flinging itself across the page?
Does the length of the line meddle in the mental load
of fathoming a prime pick? A premium piece of prose?
Is it the ephemeral moment when words are left unspoken
in the right order that resonates with the rung out?
Does ringing out, being out, outting oneself
over time undermine or refine the rhyme?
Do you get me this time?
It’s important you do, see, you don’t wanna be the joker
that misunderstands me
My words, my poetry
Because my nonsense it’s musical
If you can fuse it all into your tiny skull
I don’t really mean that, verse, phrase
It’s all subjective and none of it pays
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll get a little praise
Will you give that to me today?
No? Not yet?
It’s ok, all I have is time
trapped in this place without a dime to my frame
I live in shame
of the sad poems I bag knowing
I’ll never have fame
stop me now
put me out of my misery
let me put you out of yours
It’s sore to see myself fall so far
this nonsense has overtaken my painstaking
words
I’ve heard
a rhyme to my name so I rhyme it’s now a game to see how far I can go
across oceans across seas
my words carry me
to corners of this globe
like Glasgow, let me know
if you’re bored yet
I’m copping out now
see how I drop the ball, I appal all with
my small minded rhyme
I’ve used it again, I’m sorry
for the pain
I’ve done to your eardrums
It can’t be as fun for you as it is for me
to be this silly with the tone
of the phone I’m getting a call from home to stop the drone of my voice
now
right now
cow
show (that’s show pronounced show to rhyme with cow)
how, you may ask does one get this good at the task of speaking
Listening to Speak Now Taylor Swift
Dance al – bum
Does this pass the inspection
of a class you expected
in poetry
No?
Can I blame you not to
tow the line is this my sign
to end it before you ask me to resign
Fine.
Wait, maybe there’s still time
to save myself and my rhyme
oop, there I go, time and rhyme, again
I promise I’ll refrain
from now on
and plow on from this place to that
remind me where I was at
Oh yes
Is this a good poem?
Or nat?
Or not? Is this a good poem or not?
