Poem Category: Miscellaneous

Morning rush
the lift operator’s cough
for the pretty girl.

Birthday party
sliding down the polished handrail
past all the oldies.

White water rapids
tear at our clothes in fury
yet their taste is sweet.

The Puma’s cage stinks
its eyes drill with a fierce brain
crammed dull by pacing.

scooping the Galaxy
in the ice-melt
I prepare our coffees.

losing the sunset
still the fragrance
of the frangipani.

furniture restore
the smells of a boyhood
out in the forest.

swinging curtains
in the cheval mirror
a hummingbird’s panic.

flickers of sleep
in late-night blues
the radio’s jazz.

season’s turn
the gold everywhere
ankle deep.