bee hive in back
how much honey
to charge for rent?
Month: May 2016
790 R
chipmunk studies me
jots down adjectives
counts his syllables
789
lipstick tastes
like jitterbug days–
an aide holds a mirror
788
I pull off the road–
sirens, flashing lights
rushing to my street
787
flee the police
in a high-speed chase–
with a driverless car?
786
warmer, longer days
children yell and run
into the evening
785
old flame, cold flame
some embers best left
unstirred
784
against the dawn
doves and jays ripple
through the trees
783
I’m snagged–
silk snare drifts
in the spring air
782
dried wildflowers
clenched with wire
I leave on your porch
L
781
living in a house
of nine small rooms
then stepping outside
into bright sunshine–
our buddha nature
(Paraphrase of Daisaku Ikeda,
The Wisdom of the Lotus Sutra, vol. 4)
780
somewhere up there
someone’s world dies
to begin again
(Note: thanks to Linda Hawkes for clarifying the cosmic process to me)
779
your tattoos– like birds
and flowers we pointed to
in Little Golden Books
778
on cool, marble slabs
zombies laugh and reminisce
who the hell they were
777
where are the boys
up before sunrise
to hurl ink smeared
newspapers into hedges
and milk bottles
Pete Winslow
POEMS! POEMS!
My wife is distracting me with kisses.
How can she ignore the huge crowd
in the street screaming
“Poems! Poems!”
while the neighbors
gaze out of their windows
utterly bewildered, for they
had no idea I lived here.
–Pete Winslow (from “The Fat
Frog”)
776
Loki is the spokescat
whines for more food–
others wait expectantly
775
spring’s first fawn
wobba-wobba-wobbling
after its mother
774
neighbors watching
my red long johns
flapping in the breeze
(Revised)
773
empty grain silos
rusted railroad spur
smothered in wild rye
