A death in the family

Desperate to touch you

Desperate to stay

Desperate to go

nowhere.   The threadbare chair holds the dead cat’s lazy stretch.
An unexpected fragrance circles in numb nostrils.  Not all the flowers
have withered in neglect.

Desperate to cry

Desperate to see

Desperate to forget

in sleep.  The comforter curls in the empty spaces.  Rain hits the roof again and again
lulling nothingness.  Tomorrow doesn’t matter.

I miss you

a love poem

To you

my hands smell like garlic, onions and oregano
instead of pretty flowers
yet you still love me

my skin is rough and scarred
yet you hold and stroke me
as I crash through life

my belly and hips fall all over themselves
yet you tell me I’m beautiful
while feeding me chocolate

wiry hairs spring in unexpected places
I am no longer the girl next door
yet you only have eyes for me

my body speaks in gurgles and grunts
yet you tell me I have the sweetest voice

Thank you for doing god’s work

as well as the dishes
and the laundry

Love me

Behind Closed Doors

Stepping out in slightly open spots
a peeking, peering neighborhood walk
rolling dice and crystal balls
Who are you?
behind closed doors?

Door number 1
sexy wild kissing
goldfish swimming
blinking answering machine

Door number 2
napping cat
naked man in shuffling slippers
half eaten sandwich

Door number 3
Big Fat Secrets!
Don’t tell anybody
Least of all
Door Number 4
slam, lock scream

Door Number 5
NOBODY’S BUSINESS

Door Number 6
story time
lights out
a glass of wine, alone

Door Number 7
its a party!
Sam invited me. Sam?
maybe it was George
I just want to be invited!

Door number 10
the life I always wanted but was denied
DENIED!
denied

waiting until no one comes
except a car that doesn’t stop

stepping
back in ready-made tracks

spiraling down to
an open door
brushing off dust, cool air
and rubble

Locking the door
behind
into a
present
peace of
home

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t take notes

Ordinary life is the life for me
No extra fills today
simple, comfy
morning birds and potato chips
couches, remotes
a book or two
pay some bills
watch the news
have some tea
dust house plants
go to bed when I please
socks on or off

Years ago, he bellowed
“Don’t you want the extraordinary life”
“I don’t know.  Do I?” I asked
“You do. ” He replied.
“Follow the extraordinary!”

Storing the ordinary under the rug
I climbed the extraordinary
uncovering mud, guts,  a holy grail,
the pineapple diet, naughty knaves, the third world
and gorgeous black holes
secretly craving the ordinary
I returned to the puttering, slightly overweight ordinary
If I ever decide to  climb the extraordinary
I will take with me the ordinary
and show around the very interesting
somewhat overrated extraordinary.

Bike Girl

On the Road Again
steel steed-Trusty
one of her only friends
fleeing, speeding, yawning
into wild city affairs

 

Cheshire grin
How do you do?

 

blooming flowers
graspy branches
water driplets
dogs on leashes
owners on leashes
green eyes in dark spots
jittery smooth squirrels
running shoes on telephone wire
opened car doors

 

be careful out there
in stylish whatever bike ware

 

foxy, coyote girl on bike
apologizing on sidewalks
sneaking through red lights
so, so!
to spare the traffic
noble sneaky bike girl

 

bike girl doesn’t like helmet
do cowboys  have helmets
cow boy leave horse in  pasture
motorcycle mama leave the leather in pasture
metal city horse come to take you home

 

so cool, so cool lighter foot print
shiver through sweat, push, glide
ride on ride on ride on

 

Bike Girl on the Road Again
alone or with one or two friends
oh to be on the road again
P.S
do not steal my bike
I repeat do not steal my bike

The End of the World ( a dream, so chill)

I dreamt it was the end of the world
as we know it

climbing a steep path with rope
I discovered I was one of the
King’s chosen child bearers

thank goodness something to do,

wait I am past childbearing years
would I be killed when found out?

I noticed that there was a man in my childbearing group
surely we would not both be killed.

I woke up thankful
not to be climbing a steep path (scared of heights)
thankful I was not an aging concubine

If the King meant God almighty
holy crap, Would that mean I was a Bride of Christ?

but would I have to give up coffee?
Luckily this is not reckoning day, nor the end
simply the beginning of a new day

Good morning God

Good morning Cat

See you later Dream

I said
sipping my first of many cups of coffee