Morgan Michaels Poems

I want to die quite naked
alone and fast asleep
a pillow underneath my head
a sheet about my feet.
...

Almost as soon as they sat down a pretty girl with skin the color of cinnamon appeared carrying a tray. On the tray were two platters, piled high with dark yellow eggs and toasted bread. These she set down on the table in the midst of a scatter of sunshine and shadow from the trees, together with a tall white coffeepot. Beside the pot was a blue stoneware bowl of sticky honey. Then she smiled, wheeled and left before either had a chance to say 'merci.'

Straightaway the table was rushed by an army of black and yellow-vested birds with long curved bills, that darted in from the neighboring trees, fearless and famished, turned-on by the honey-boat.
...

you have taken a train to a boat
that ferries you slowly to a third world aeroport
where palm trees struggle against hostile winds;
where you board a plane stuck with propellers that
...

'Honey, that dog is ugly! ' insists my wife.
That did it.
I knew what she meant, though.
The dog was...if not ugly, extremely homely.
...

The sky is an encrypted silver table
set with candles and ghostly bangles;
weaving mischief all the night long.
...

everything's interconnected:
sex and procreation unlinked
then faith in immortality is shaken-
how nervous we get!
...