Postcard Poem 25 #NaPoWriMo

Miscellaneous angst
is the order of the day:
we’ve learned to bounce the wrong words
off of unseen enemies,
to be someone else’s wall —
a pinch of head-banging blondes,
a whisper of nervosa.

Postcard Poem 24 #NaPoWriMo

The “energizer bunny”
neighbor hugs me and my dog,
pets us both and begs a kiss,
grinning, breath sweet as liquor
::in this chill dark-shadowed night::
my friend’s cat brings her foul gifts —
broken birds, bloody bunnies.

Postcard Poem 23 #NaPoWriMo

The purple onions grow soft
inside, tough as leather out.
Poets collect names of words
flying loose from life, never
to be heard again in their
original voice. “Compost”
is only centuries old.

Postcard Poem 22 #NaPoWriMo

What makes this night different
from the others? I am here,
not on my couch, not at home.
I am with folk I don’t know,
or don’t know well. We all read
aloud together, question,
drink, eat. I take off my mask.

Postcard Poem 21 #NaPoWriMo

The girl-fireflies-loved escorts
the girl-who-fed-air-and-fire-
to-each-other one last time.
So I’m thinking of all things
flaming, and, for a moment,
forget all the things famous
for burning that she sheltered.

Postcard Poem 20 #NaPoWriMo

I want to tell you about
a book I was reading, to
make you laugh again, and then
I remember you left, and
are nowhere you can hear me.
Next I catch myself sending
your message to my mother,
now gone for ten years. You? Just
five months. Five months today. Me?
Wondering if I’m still here.

Postcard Poem 19 #NaPoWriMo

The model in green stockings
floats heavy-legged in water.
Her feet drag her deeply down.
The model with glowing hands
reclines, wounded with flaming.
She cradles each pain apart,
pillowed by air and distance,
gusting petals her bolster.

Postcard Poem 18 #NaPoWriMo

You just know she’s been reading
Dr. Seuss books, camouflaged
as something serious, but
the delight on her face gives
away the secret, as do
gaudy sketches of seaweed
and sharp coral trumpeting
in colors that shriek even
underwater, bursting forth
in mayhem and wild mermaids.

Postcard Poem 17 #NaPoWriMo

Take the empty cardboard box
to the laundry. Tell Washer
“I don’t know why I’m here now,
oh, so sorry, I forgot
your name.” Upstairs, the dirty
clothes perform the dance of the
seven veils, singing a chain
that begins “O, my love, how
could you forget me?” Forget …

Postcard Poem 16 #NaPoWriMo

Guilty face of a startled
black cat. Eyes to fall into.
The hidden tail trails, slumps, slinks.
The tail flying flags demands,
In silence, everything.
All these things. All these things in
black, in white. This is what’s right.