Blinking cursors

live singularities
like the Big Bang
suddenly cannot
abide themselves
a moment longer
start to expand
their burst bonds
start to populate
adjacent space
with every kind
of flown detritus
from light to iron
totally incapable
and uninterested
in making sense
of itself so here
we spin in eddies
screaming Wait
Yes We Can See
Wait No We Can't
Wait Yes We Can
but all we do see
are some other
dots of detritus
and the cursors
themselves are
still just cursors
blinking steadily
as if in warning
[glow] l [/glow]


Considering that all

Considering that all
it takes to put me right
in Alice in Wonderland
is one squirrel on the deck
who appears to stand
almost two feet tall,

it is small wonder indeed
when this or that
convinces me
you're not and never were
to be trusted
even after fifteen years.

I am what I think is called
“highly suggestible.”
It came in handy the day
I correctly interpreted
your puking into the shower
stall as a come-on,

but ever since then
it's been a liability.
Of course you're allowed
to smile at other men.
Of course you're free
to lightly touch a knee

in the course of conversation,
but it always looks to me
as though you're flirting
or want to be flirting
or at the very least
want me to think you're flirting.

Of course there is a possibility
you do commit one, two or three
of those romantic crimes.
But most likely, it's just me.


O exigente um Fogo

Flinty, as ill-ground
as shattered clay,
grayish, tastes like
dry dirt with a hint
of caramel—burnt
dirt—this is coffee?
 
Cream pours into it
without a trace—
three, four times more
than any coffee takes.
That almost fits my
definition of a demon!
 
The bushes that bear
it are genus Coffea,
but some apples fall
far from the tree—
not every Homo
is humane, yes?
 
I know you slave
to grow it, and a
caldera, no measurable
rain, just two nightly
drops of condensation,
is a far cry from Kona.

Still—this isn't coffee—
a stench certainly of
garbage, almost sewage,
it is carrion of coffee,
monstrosity of coffee,
unfortunate seed

of poor plants with nothing
at all within them to offer.


such monsters

poets are such monsters. - cheryl leverette

the men who pinch our eyelids
twist them up
take instruments of torture
with tiny steel rings at the end
and lift off the specks of dirt
that scrape our eyeballs

are such monsters

the bowling alley waitresses
who say we aren't good enough
to sniff their lady skulls
but if we ever take our tongues
up off the floor
we can come back and ask again

are such monsters

our own children
who demand to know
why we are mean to them

our own children


Self Help

The day after yesterday
came and went and then
came back to haunt me

like one of them mosquitos
in the bedroom who won't
get it over with and bite
but won't go away either

I just want to sleep I got
no bright ideas for making any
improvement but isn't there
always the slight chance

that a new day will dawn
and bring something with it
that the old day didn't have

like when FedEx shows up
out of the blue and leaves
a package outside the door

that could possibly be for you
even though time after time
you pick it up to see that Lu

is just wasting more money
on self-help books and bras
that aren't going to fit right

and even if they did who is
going to care enough to say

Hey Lu your new self-help has
really lightened your existence

and by the way your husband
also seems a bit more cheerful

do you think it has anything
to do with that new bra
you're wearing wink wink

like they say, at least you still have your sense of humor.  Just kills me when 'they' say that.

arising wondering

arising
wondering
How is my
posting doing

raises the
question
Is this mainly
vanity

then the
more diverting
question
So what


we have now
cleared off
the bookstand
by the toilet
for our laptops

no I am not


those

med-
ieval
cathe-
drals
 french
 snow
 globe
 cities
built
over
many
years
 look
 like
 those
 ochre
 earth
 spires
termite
poetry
circles
raise
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Re: those
« Reply #1 on: January 16, 2010, 10:33:29 PM » by cherylleverette©
awesome.  The secret here 'built over many years'.  Thanks for posting this.
cheryl
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Re: those
« Reply #2 on: January 16, 2010, 10:35:43 PM » by Tom Riordan
Thanks for reading, Cheryl - and to PoetryCircle collectively.

Paradox 19

Perfect contrition
is the miraculous
shrinking powder
that cuts a camel
down to the size
of a needle's eye.