Morgan Michaels Poems

It is pleasant to be praised-
but praised by who?
Sometimes to be praised is to be dissed.
...

A lone and level expanse of darkening heath
carpeted by maquis. Threads of footpaths.
A tapestry of twill-tones:
violetumbergreen. No trees.
...

Mists of delusion
blowing away, leave the peaks
of reality.
...

It doesn't make us
want to galivant,
this conviction all is fate.
...

ho my kid
hidda home run
my kid did
my kid did
...

I asked him what he hoped to do after sunset.

'Probably go back to my place, ' speculated Jack, now Anna. 'We'll probably have more watermelon, ' he further mused.
...

Tanya's face went white. Her expression blent disappointment and rage.

'Besides, I wasn't expecting callers at this time. You seem very nice and I'm sure you're a good soul, but I really must get ready.'
...

From the top of the page
scrolling down
like a fern unfurling
or a moth's tongue,
...