...blogging while drunk is dangerous; transcribing poetry less so...

Late

Alone I survey darkness on my street
halogen hum, clink of piledriver far distant
minor keyed train whistle
evidence my solitude is fancy.

Woodsy smoke rings curl around my head;
the Questing Sniff lies quiet, waits for me
to go to bed.

15 March 2005

Spring blooming flowers
Are in her smile; tangled ebony
Ringlets curl caressing
All around
Her pink porcelain cheeks.

Sarah Curry, artist, Guiness drinker

21 March 2005

Carpe Diem

Moon on moon on moon
Lay we underground
And now
Spring’s insistent thrum
Bids us burrow up and up
To wing
And sing
To mate, perhaps
Then die
Glory of our tiny lives
Left behind in
Empty shells.

24 March 2005; #22

DIY

Being that
Success is measured
out in coffee spoons
and cups
and mixed and stirred
in batter bowls
then poured
and peeked at
through a dusky window
or foggy crack
until— arise, arose
it is risen!
cooled, consumed
then it seems the recipe
for Satisfaction
is good
ingredients,
heedful hands,
and hungry
grateful
hearts.

26 March 2005

Clench

Hands twist
and fist
white-knuckled
safe behind
my back-

I must keep them there

for if I release
my fingers
from my fingers
they will unruly reach
stroke your feather brow
lift and
sift
through sandy
splendor
of your hair.

20 March 2005 #21

Bathroom Window


Lift sash to catch the birdsong
Watch steam roll into tendrils
Frigid breeze licks prickles on my skin
Wet earth carries to my nostrils:
I taste spring on winter’s wind.


3 March 2005 -wwn-