world I’d like to break
the glass that seals him in the scene
neat and clean. Is he a fairy-tale
I can't t enter into? Or is he

a display that provides me
visual entertainment? I can touch him
with my eyes, not my hands. I can touch
the glass, but not pass into the place

he stands. He's close. But
distant as a star. And as a star, I must
leave him behind the transparent
sphere.  Here, he can hold me in a stare,

but not in his arms. I can hear the whoosh
of the butterfly rustling on the pavement, no
claimant to the stars or moon. His sparkling
world leaves me pruned.

We dip them in thought
In reverie
See them as marks on a page
In dark, in our sleep
Carved in stone
Hung on the walls
Out in the streets
Close and afar
They comfort
They wound
They evoke
They’ve brought many to ruin
From one careless stroke
They’re works of art
In all languages
In different classes
Some are spares
Some profound
Some pithy
Some glib
Some ancient
Others more modern
Everywhere we live
words

tucked in my tire. I drove for miles
with you pushing your barb through
my ribs. ******* air out of my
treads. Now I’m flat as unleavened bread.

You were the pebble
stuck in my shoe, cutting into me
with every step I took. You found
a nook to set up shop. I couldn't
walk without you digging into the *****,
making it swollen and red. Ripping it
to shreds like two cats fighting on the bed.

You were the splinter
that snuck in my hand. You landed as an airplane
under the skin and infected me. Lumpy
and itchy as poison ivy. A rash that can’t subside.  I ooze
like a pimple poked in the middle covering my face
like the tide.

as a pig
on a spit
turn
turn
men poking me
with sarcastic jabs
salted with
my quips
balking at reality tags
the red apple
pushed between
my puckered lips
is mush in the flames
of a kiss
I’m browning once again
as the ground
after the rain
the patches are stains
the sun falls
as if the pins let go
I see poked holes
at the site  
that enters light

I want to taste you he said. Thank God I’m coiffured
for the good doctor. My lips were large and parted –

as he started to go down south
hungrily feeding his greedy mouth. When you’ve given

birth twice it stretches you out like a linebacker. And I
trimmed the gym with a weedwhacker because no one likes

hair in their mouth. I wondered had he ever tasted patient
before? I would surely **** him if he said I tasted like chicken,

or worse yet fish. But I think he liked my dish. I seasoned
it well with perfume and powder after a long night in the shower.

yellow as the sun.
But as a lemon,
bitter was his taste
lying on my tongue.

He shined
red as my satin lipstick.
But as I pressed him to my lips,
like a virus
I fell sick.

He shined
as a silver dollar.
But as he pulled me close,
I choked
like wearing a tight dog collar.

He shined
as a gold mine.
But as our bodies danced,
he pickled me like brine.

I’m going to wrap myself up as your present
in bows and pretty ribbons.
I’m going down to my local post office
and get myself a little green sticker.
I feel the excitement in the air getting thicker.
I’ll have my own special number.
Just for your convenience,
as a woman of heart and lenience.
And when I arrive at your doorstep
you’re going to have to sign on the dotted line,
before I can claim you as mine.
At that precise moment when the delivery guy leaves
you’ll take me in and unwrap me with impish glee.
I hope you like your present.
I put a lot of effort into it.
I’ve been waiting all year just to give it to you.
Please take good care of it.
It was the last one; and it doesn’t come with a refund.

as a snowflake in July
I melt before I hit the sidewalk
disappear in thin air

as a rhinoceros tramping down main street
people move aside
the ones that don’t get trampled on
I don’t have a nose; I have a horn
and you wouldn’t want to find it up against your back

I don’t fit in; I fit out
As a result, I am shunned by the world
So, must shout to be heard

Someone placed a piece of tape
across her lips.
Now her words cannot escape
or sink ships.

But she still has her fingers.
She can write.
The feelings she has always lingers,
into the night.

Keeping secrets forever is a drag.
She never could.
The cat’s out of the bag
for good!

I dip in my bowl of juxtaposition
to see what I got swimming. I stir the letters
around with my spoon. I look for the headers. Wait
for the broth to cool. Just when I find A, the B

is somewhere underneath. And all that floats
up top is X Y and Z. I grow very angry because
my stomach is hurting. It's myself that I'm serving
and because of this I got burned. And cut on the

hand with the lid of the can. Still puzzled I try
to find the right word in a free-form style. But I can and
do not. And because I can't smile. This all brings
back painful memories. And I think to myself the letters
just tease.

the sun isn’t gold;
it’s jaundice. The stars don’t shine;
they burn. Your wheels just spin,
don’t turn. Your heart doesn’t beat;
it clinks. Your cheeks are white,
not pink. Today is no different than
tomorrow. Every day carries so much
sorrow. You’re sad; but the tears
won’t come. You’re moving; but you
feel so numb. It’s hard to feign
a smile. Dishes and ***** clothes collect
in a pile. You’ve no energy to get anything
done. You’re defeated before you’ve even
begun. People say it will get better. But for
you better never comes. When you’re depressed
all you feel is emptiness.

is like a week without a bath. I feel
grungy and seedy. My hair is stuck
in mats. My smile is upside down. I never
laugh. My eyelashes stick together from

the drowning of my tears. My shadow
doesn’t follow me. I’m not that great
company. I’m melancholy as a storm cloud
that hangs around after the rain. The knot

in my stomach’s tied so tight it feels
like a chain pulling me from the inside, and
ripping me apart. My heart’s a black
box with no output. It lies outside my

body. And my brain is a can worms that
the hungriest fish would turn down. This is
what I call destitute –
a week without you.

plays every time he calls. And my
heart go up another notch above
the volume of the song. And then I
hit the green accept that allows

his voice to emit from the piece of
plastic that I hold with clammy hands
like a teenager again. And then he says
my name, mine his.  And it feels as if

the ring tone got it right, or else Madonna
when she sings “If I could melt your
heart we’d never be apart” And so I don’t
feel so far away. And it fills up the space

of the double martinis. And I’m already dreaming
of the next time the song plays. And I go
through the process once more, of hearing music,
seeing green feeling joy and flying unicorns

that adorn the windshield.  And he says in that
sultry voice “hello Sandy” What could be finer
than this? Well, don’t go tell him that I said
“maybe a kiss” on those soft lips.

a fluff-ball with *******
a dust bunny that’s runny
none take me seriously
just a speck, a freckle on the sun
a flake on a wire
shaken off
a fleck, a spot, a patch
a seed that didn’t soil
floating pollen in the air
a grain of sand
wet and bare
a chip that breaks off
falls
and is lost
is stepped on by a man
smeared under his sole
a blight, a blemish
mole
a cavity
a pinprick
hole

of eyes
that can see
a peony
from poison ivy
and hold it close
to so breast
and with eyes
caress

I yen for a clean set
of ears
that can hear
a harpsichord
from nails
on a chalk board
and dance to the notes

I yen for a clean set
of lips
that can string
a song
from a holler
sing the beauty
without a collar
take a cracked, dried frown
turn it upside/down

the olive
you’ll get oil.

If you puree
the apple
you’ll get sauce.

If you squeeze
the orange
you’ll get juice.

If you cut
the bean down the middle
you’ll get vanilla

When you break
something open
you extract something
beautiful, made in
the process. It will only
rot staying intact. It needs
metamorphosis

Darling I see you
metamorphosing in front
of me.

a fledgling
dawning as the sun
selling everyone
with my melodic song

puffing out my red breast
flapping my feathered wings
trying to impress
the bonny spring

trying to soar
like the osprey
lift off this grassy floor
with no man

to teach me
so, I'm robbing
like a bee
out of amber honey

and bobbin to the beat
of car horns
in the ***** city street
a baby bird is born

some things like ribbons
in my hair I'd cut the ties
and have them swinging free like
Gibbons in the tree.

If I could undo
the damage I’ve done
but how do you stop
a flying bullet after it’s shot
from a gun?

If I could undo
all the pain
I’d take a pair of scissors
and shear the clouds
stopping the rain.

If I could undo
the past
like a broken arm
set in a cast
but how shall I cast light
on covered broken pieces?

Weld them together with love
is the thesis!

No lips pressed tight
No burning candles bright
No heartfelt love professed
No reason to get dressed
Another lonely night

soap
would it rain bubbles?

If I threw up
pennies
would my fortune double?

If I threw up
powder
would it snow dust?

If I threw up
my hands in the air
would they start to rust?

Spent my life
set up
in a alley
waiting for men to
knock me down
Dead White Weight
The “thud”
as I hit the ground

Spinning like the arms
on a clock
rolling around
even when my arms
are together
I'm under the weather

I Descry

in each of them –
Something
The first one –
Benevolence
He sang it until he lost his breath
The second one –
Neurosis
He buried himself with the wooden angst he tied below his waist
The third one –
Timorousness
He played a single note of trepidation on his tuning fork

as autumn leaves
breaking off from the trees
snared in a breeze
carried in a billowing wind
not to attach again

You pulled away
as light from the day
when storm clouds turn to grey
dusk hovering like a hummingbird
and all my dreams deferred

You pulled away
as a crusty scab on a scar
shrinking my life
as a smoked cigar
all turned to flaking ash
scattered in a blinding flash

pushed under the rug
buried in the earth I dug
crushed under man’s foot
thrown in a fire/turned to soot

I’ve had pieces
with hairline cracks
ones that melted down to wax
with jagged edges and faded top
the ones that bend and flop

I've had pieces
glued back together
but didn't hold in inclement weather
ones that scattered as mice
shaken and rolled like dice

I've had pieces
thin as floss
one’s old cloaked in moss
some are here
but most are lost
the ones here are covered in frost

I was born a windstorm
with a squall as my blanket
and a scud for a cap I’d spent hours
taking a blustery nap.

I met you in a blast.
You were such a shock wave –
two spirits concaved
in a tempestuous puff we doused the light

a tumultuous rush had us blacken
the white
blow after blow, we were a flurry
I was your gale; you my eddy
The turbulence worn thin
as a wafer

I ate you for breakfast
and deadened the flavor
now you hang over me as mist
and I stand as a tempest
in need of a kiss.

wet and alone
wrinkled and soft
tossed from man to man
in their hands she squealed
chubby as a beach whale

She started out
drooling and sputtering
cooing and babbling "bababa"
in a mouth with no teeth
and a double chin underneath

She started out
on all fours
crawling on the floor
wobbling and falling
she never stopped falling

She started out
begging to fit in
looking like a boy
with chopped hair
in brown corduroys

She started out
with a maidenhead
and every month
it'd bled bright red

She started out
out with papers and books
jeers and scoffing looks
bitten down nails
in messy pigtails

She started out
in lace
a veil to hide her face
two kids
a cat
a car
and then an empty jar

She started out
with beer on pizza night
then turned to wine
red or white
now she turns on her soap operas
downing three or four vodkas

She started out flirting
and on paper blurting
about her escapades
and a writer's sunken wage

She ends up as she starts
wet and alone
wrinkled and soft

I am me.
Not Peggy Sue
or Mary Lee.
My thoughts are different,

my feelings too. I need a wider
fence to gallop and trot. All who
sat in my saddle have fallen
off. I won’t be roped in or

pulled. I’m sure I’d make
a better mule. Do not compare me
to your others! The bee makes honey –
the cow milk, the silkworm

silk. That's how it is! And will
always be so. If it’s too much for you –
then let me go!

my man can pull
my plug
all the ***** water
running out

still debris
sticking to the side
like fallen leaves
making a ring

round the whole thing
big as Aunt Bessie’s hide
if he can sift the dirt
from the water

it'd still turn cold
as Aunt Bertha's nose
as she's kissing me
smearing it in my cheek

leaving lipstick streaks
like zebra stripes
only they’re red
like someone bled
out into the night

only in the winter
as I’m stripped of my red
cloak? When the yellows have broken
and scrambled like egg yolk? When I can’t blanket
you in shade. And my bark is sharp as blades?

Do you see me
only in early spring
when my buds are tightly closed
like a fist swinging in the air
and breaking someone’s nose?

Do you see me
only in late autumn
when my colors are bleeding out
and fallen to the bottom. And my nut plunks
someone’s head so loud it shakes the dead?

Do you see me
only in the summer
so green and much
younger? A haven for the thunder. When you
laid under me and fell asleep at my feet?

on my line and cast them out
two at a time? Some swim
around them. Some stop
in their harried day to take a breath

and catch a glitter in the
corner of their eye. Wipe the glitter,
as if it a speck of dust that swept up
in a wave. But can they stop to take

a bite? Plucking my shiny notes as
apples off a tree, the juices running a marathon
in their teeth. Or cutting them up into pieces
for the pie, making them all the same size.

the oceans drained
till the sea turned desert
and the clouds inert
so, it stopped the rain
someone pulled the plug
and it's hard to feign

All
the stars collided
till the sky broke gas
in this billowing mass
men cried
it wouldn’t pass

All
the forests burned
every tree that stood
took a turn to fall
nothing but ash left
in a smoky squall

All
the flags bled
from mans oversized head
into the mire
the birds on the wire
were cooked
as the chickens in the fryer

I’d spend the livid day
swimming in the cool, green stream.
And dip below the surface
as the children ran and scream.

If I was a turtle
I’d bask in the light of the glowing sun
sitting on a fallen log
falling asleep till I heard the croak
of the old bullfrog.

If I was a turtle
I’d pull my head
and limber limbs inside
if someone jerky scared me.
I’d not leave my place to hide.

If I was a turtle
I’d not ask for a lot.
Inside my shiny, painted dome
I’d fiddle the day
not roaming from my home,
relaxed and fed, and gay.

He's inutile
as a baby toe.

No point of recovering
an appendage that's a runt.

If he were cake, he'd make a Baby Bundt
with a gaping hole in his center.

Should've left
soon as I entered.

only seeing it
in magazines
on shelves
in bookstores
or TV?

Do you wish that
you could be
shrunk
down in size
and climb
into the scene?

Do you hate the life
you’re living?
And all you do
is dream?

Welcome to
my reality

as nightfall stung
in a blood-red October sky
as dewdrops rolled off blades of grass
and the air passed through my silky dress
caressing each mound of breast
till I heaved in distress
and broke out in hives

Waited till
the calendars flung
out of the window as robin sung
on snowy branch
and my pen danced on perfumed paper
that lit up like fire
as I inhaled the vapor
drunk on yesterday
and bent of this caper

Waited
in shadows hung
on city streets
like stalkers stalking me
in the desert moon
and weeping icicles
in the month of June
till I froze in my tracks
an ice-sculptor for the parade
with a pound of lemon, *****
and sage

as a terry washcloth
in his tight-****** hands
and all the dewdrop beads
fall as strands of pearls
torn from the necks
of daddy’s little girls
and scatter as roaches
in the crevices and holes
some roll under the cabinets
and grow old

You can’t see anything
until you
Wake up.
You can’t go anywhere
until you
Get up
You can’t get together
until you
Make up
You can’t see the sky
until you
Look up
You won’t change a thing
until you’re
Fed up

on the page
awaiting the day
someone takes the reins
and guides them. Gets on

the saddle and rides
them. A silhouette, a dark
pirouette that stares at the stars
and wonders among the rain

and thunder. How could anyone
sleep when the moon is playing
make-believe? Filling up the head
with cheese. And no dangling

carrot. Why do they parrot
all the greats like Keats and
Blake? What’s wrong with sqeezing
lemon on freshly washed linen?

for the successes.
But be there
for the failures too.
Anyone can love a star.
But who he is
goes beyond the trophies
sitting on the mantle,
or the degrees
hanging on the wall
or the money
or the title
that they call him.
It lies in his heart.

Be there
during the happy times.
But be there
for the disappointments
and heartbreaks.
Because they’ll be many.

Be there
to listen
without judgement.
But be there
when he shuts you out.
Let him know
the door is always open –
That’s what being a parent
Is all about.

They outgrow their clothes
and shoes.
But they don’t outgrow
their need for you.

the chrysalis
and not the butterfly
too much the cracked shell
not the cygnet inside

I’m too much
the fallen leaves
not the branches on the trees
to much the yellow weeds
not the grass surrounding these

I’m too much
a joke
not the punchline
just a runny yolk
spoiling the egg-whites

draping over her.
Blowing minted kiss,
In a sea of grass.
Another day shall

pass. Glazed eyes mist
into a lime twist.
Dangling participles,
arms and wrist. Head

dropped back, stuffed
as a gunny sack. Hair spread
as a shaggy carpet. The argot of
the poet's dream. All the pages

in-between
of men and silent children’s
screams. But she can breathe
the air lying in cornflower cotton

and rope. This world forgotten,
with a drink to have her afloat.
Swinging, hanging suspended.
This is the life she intended.

You’ve been looking
rather grim.
Seems your life’s
pretty dim

Why so serious?
So sad?
Just be delirious!
Be glad.

Be a ****!
Let it rip!
Shut the tube
Take a dip

Life is short.
Have some fun
Eat a torte
Kiss your ***

Smile
Make faces
Dial
Strange places

Do the things
On your bucket list
Cut the strings
They won’t be missed

They Cut You

the minute you’re born.
They cut you and clamp you like ears of a corn.
Leaving a little hole in the middle of your belly.
You like swiss cheese they bought at the deli.

They cut off your fingernails and locks of your hair.
And if you’re a boy, well you better beware!
Soon enough they’ll cut you off from the breast,
giving you processed food to digest.

Then they start cutting back on your care.
You cry for them pitifully when they’re not there.
They cut you in more ways than one.
They cut you with words while you’re still young.

As you grow older, they cut down your pride.
Leaving raised welts like smelts on your hide.
You reach out for other people who
are masterful at cutting you too.

Until you grow up and cut everyone out,
even the people who try to help out.
You cut them out like paper dolls.
And end up drinking in bathroom stalls.

You’re so good at cutting things.
Blades become your captive wings.

that can switch his eyes,
nose. mouth, and hands. He turns
hats faster than an alley cat. Filling
the holes in red blue and gold. Yesterday

stood a boxer asking for a rematch.
Today he’s a pirate donning
his eyepatch. I can’t tell the mask he’ll
wear. His parts are strewn

everywhere. His smile as a clown
turns into a mustache-colored
brown. He puts on boots, sneakers
leather shoes, and suits. He's a villain.

He's a hero, a reptilian, a Robert
De Niro. If I could only bake
fry, mash, or stuff him! Throw him
in my oven. But I'm not a glutton.

as an artic blast
through the dank tunnels
of yesterday. Passed over me
as a tsunami. I sank

in his large wave. Passed as bloated
gas through my intestines. He's a bean
that cramped me with indigestion. I'd the runs
for days, weeks and months. He passed

the buck as a Mack truck on
the highway. Pulverizing sweet
meat with dancing eyes, Cheshire
grin and pearly teeth. Passed

every man on
the touchdown. He passed me
in years but not tribulations. Lawyers
passed papers halting all relations.

you peered out from the sides
wouldn't throw me a twine.
I called out in gravel and in thunder.

You plundered every line
disguised in cherry wine.
And I turpentine, oily and bovine

swallowed the sand in the glass
filling up my nose on the pass
cutting my eyes on the toss.

Over my head
drowning in the sauce.
On the bottom

I'm a clump
not more than a stump
with feet.

The rain washes away these footprints
My tears wash away the time I spend trudging upon yesterday
I overturned every stone to collect what’s underneath
But all I collected was more dirt under my feet
And I stop and look back to where I was
But there are no footprints, only mud

that all the Brobdingnagian trees
exuviate their crimson orange leaves
gibbeting jagged appendages in the snow
and that emerald blades freeze

I'd not fall like a mosquito.
I'd grow plump as a pumpkin on the vine.
Not crushed and bottled
as grapes in the cherry wine.

And if his rounded face wasn't traced
on the mosaic tiled moon
this stock-still heart wouldn't race
and break from her blanket of a cocoon.

It hibernate in the slivers of a silky spoon,
sleeping as a nun till the lilacs bloom.
And the stars dancing pirouettes
wouldn't have me break out in a sweat!

as others grew up. I was attached
as a continent until I broke off
and became an island. Every man
I gave my hand held a chisel. Carved

a piece out of my middle. Now my head’s
hung to my chest. And my feet are at
my knees. I don’t bend to sit. I’m bent
so, I fit with the bottom crawlers. I’m little

as a bonsai, ornamental and
dwarfed. I morphed into a living
corpse. Drinking my days in a purple
haze. Once you’ve lopped you can’t

reattach. A broken branch can’t
hitch back on the tree. It rots on the
ground, covered by leaves. Not missed –
just a stick

as a stuffed purse
about to burst at
the seams. I was
so green.

My Passion Bulges
as a toad’s throat,
puffing out after a meal,
like a water-balloon,
with a broken seal –
till it splatters. That’s
when I could feel.

My Passion Bulges
now like a fat man’s
shirt, tightly drawn over
the chest until it hurts, riding up
the flesh and splitting the
buttons. That’s what I get
for being a glutton!