Body Talk

Mr. Body awoke feeling poky. “It’s your diet,” Mrs. Body sd. “I eat the same crap as everybody.” “Just as you say.” “What are those gold chains about their necks all about?” “True that. Tiffany’s on steroids.” “What are the qualities of good plumbing?” “You don’t hear the pipes growling in the walls.” “No leaks,…

Summer Notes: 4 – Water

These awkward weedy notes of summer, they steal water from the subtle artful crafty ones, the ones crammed with food and hose drenched, and yes, fruit-bearing they’ll be, and well spent. The mollycoddle promises a bumper crop this year, but what will be done with it all? They can can the coddle, bottle the molly,…

A Fourth of a Poem

All around us, the plants whisper in dry brittle voices, “water us, water us.” Sotto voce, there is no water, and what falls is not wet or gentle, but drops of chthonic fireworks, urban, rural, coastal infernos. The plants dig and pray to Hades, and cooler there than here in this air.

Cherry Trees in City Park in Spring

It was such a perfect day in the park. You might have been reminded of the Lou Reed song “Perfect Day.” The cherry trees were drinking sangria: Oh, it’s such a perfect day I’m glad I spent it with you Oh, such a perfect day You just keep me hanging on The second person is…