under my eyelid all the long summer
grit from the forgotten pyramid
my grasswe(e)t toes too long to trod over any meringue
a golden bubble chases the pigs
while Nobody plots
late unrhymable light my splitting shoe the same
Her trilling toes through
morning-star-wet grass
over calm water an orange concierge ogles a pint of rhyme
tea cooling I try to connect two letters to my enemy’s cloud
with time running out and the clasp broken the last thing the mortuary students needed was this extended commentary on the subtext of that smirk
sound of rain
seeds
the wind
in
my throat
closes at dusk
this cricket tomorrow was a word I loved before the ocean
What solar-powered syntax will break through the city’s thick walls later wielding a heavy pen he stumbles never to blink again
But the pen won’t start so the precious possibility with a suitcase secretly packed disappears beyond the hill
Where the music comes from on those nights though despite his best attempts we left feeling as though we hadn’t eaten at all
never with anything to show for the veins of leaves lost feathers of the long day and those thin bones from which perhaps flutes but now I have broken my own rule and as you see the birds die
but you could have guessed as much from the grasping fingers crushed for a chance to splash in dirty puddles while children learn fresh insults for a cloud that never brings rain
one could choose to count the grains of sand on this or any other beach but as we have but each other to ride out our sundry troubles perhaps let us order in
If you love tiny gems of super-condensed poetry, check out Bones, which is back from hiatus and better than ever! They just published #23, with a few from yours truly…
haiku and other animals 