margarine's lament

living life like butter
would be so divine
to be turned and churned
over and over again
and spread on a muffin
melting making mouths water
without a care in the world

The below

The poems below were reaped from my notebook this morning. Some I like, all are still works in progress. The top two are the oldest, back a year or so, from UVM. There were more, but they were either shiyt or require more than a whims worth of work.

Apprehension

Tension grips the young men
Tight, where any noise overwhelms
The space between friends

Fooling into fighting night
Fools hating day
Bitter towards the sunrise

Stomach in the Grass

Green tongues licking
Lapping at the wind
Wrenching hard on stubborn roots, holding back the sky

Breeze declaring its charm
Rattling
Leaves
Dives
Swallows

My eyes along the stubble green

Clearly

Dark eyes from the gap between a Yalie and the wall

Dark hair that curls and waves her handkerchief train

Dark skin that sticks and roofs my mouth molasses

Irrelevance equal to her name

A far corner out of sight

A couple words to remember

Free Three Musketeers

To walk away from the audience gathered here for make believe
I can pretend as well that I am walking along some promenade
Somewhere in the whole of France
Or some such European nonsense

The cement sculpture
Fountain basin and orb ornaments
Adorning these suggestive railings

Shape this park
Long ago
Somewhere in the whole of France

Isnt that somin

The meter of the spoken word is broken on the page
And pain is flat like numbness

Shapes of things are cold suggestion

The sound of bound and gagged

Callous
A case of self-serve cadence
to write this cantor down
Stuck
Inside my head