Monday, November 14, 2005

...the refrigerator speaks...


puppy shake lick
pant drool spray
smear play



hot honey water
bitter boiling
drunk on wet tongue music


fluff your chocolate hair
peach summer smell knife me delerious


Haiku for BuddahPat

Graceful white crane swings
wrecking ball at shattered frame
concrete flies like leaves.

Why I Married Him

Did you... (fill in the blank) because
his response is
mmmhmm, sure, without
looking up from
The Game.

He retreats into
magazines or
the bathroom,
leaves just
when it's least convenient;
snoring, shifts aside as I
nudge my way
into pillowed comfort.

But when I nestle in, he bends
his knees, tucks
my frozen feet
between his large
toasty legs and in this
mostly unconscious
gesture erases
many slights.

2 November 2005

Homeless Man With Cat

On greasy parking lot, crouched
beside wheeled wire
basket piled high with slick black
plastic, he peels
bun from paper
wrapped sandwich.

Breaking bits of meat into empty
mint tin open on the
ground, he feeds whiskered

Backs of battered fingers stroke creamy
coat; shabby
face softens in a smile.

He nibbles smeary
bread, relishing
her meal more than his own.

She turns away
her face to wash elegant
nose. He finishes
what remains, stands, tucks
her under one arm, she
the only clean spot
on his person.

Dragging bent
basket, cradling precious
burden, he staggers
uneven into grubby

31 October 2005