Friday, February 26, 2010

Rescuing some old pomes/fragments from elsewhere

Rat Race

Same as mouse race
only bigger
is how
the Chinese see it.

Along with
ugly butterflies:
the ones
we know as


hungry wolf

MFK Fisher had it right:
the only thing to do
is cook it


imaginary grace

What we ask
when our eyes are closed
when warm in the circle
of another's arms

Or joy. That, too,
is sometimes granted
for a while


erotic cabaret

velvet glove, pulled slowly down,
fishnet stocking tight over a rump
a floweret placed. . . .

ah, no
not what we had in mind. . . .

the space between fingers
the wrist drawn down a belly
a finger searching for
the heart of the orchid


playing with matches

hard nail across a match head
years of experience
to perfect the trick
and many burned thumbs


time crinkling

just a life
a memory
a mother's smile
as she touches
gingerly, almost
a lock of fine blond hair
tied with a bit of faded
blue ribbon
in the memory box


wastelands tapestry

the golds blown
the browns faded
a bit of glint on the sage
pale skeleton of tumbleweed
whisks by

childhood memories
of a desert-born woman


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