Not in a million years
would he put up with you
your bourgeois twists, your lies,
your foolish, pettish ways-
...
'She sat in a tulip chair, naked, reading something-what?
a National Geographic atlas, I think it was.
Every so often a page of light turned across her bosom.
She talked about places she wanted to go, the sunny window behind her
...
Ripples from ripples
lives ending and beginning
bluegill-fishing
...
Down the drain, water,
Funnelling faster, faster,
Fastest at the last
...
I will tell her boy, not her.
He can tell her anything he pleases.
I myself told her not a word.
Intrigue makes life interesting.
...
Daffodils. They nod
in throng, 'It's come again, now-
Wow, pass it along.'
...
Into a cereal bowl last night, I spilled
an entire packet of seeds-Cosmos bipinnatus;
the bowl was half-filled with water-
the needed soak step before planting.
...
She was a good old gal-
unwed, un-bred,
that, counting her marbles well
and knowing herself worth more dead
...
Poet to Peasant:
'That suit of clothes, your only,
is one too many.'
...