Goodbye

lazy winter skies
static cumulous clouds

dirt turned to dust
sulfur scented fog

rivers in winter
when the water is low

days when you can’t start
and you start anyway

[RK, 1/13/2021]

J

jazz I tried to inherit
with recordings made
before I was born

jill who went up the hill
before me
and vanished

jasmine flowers tempting me not
to be squirrely but
to behave

juniper berries smelling
tough and salty
not like gin at all

June bugs filling a child’s window
with fascination
one step closer to awareness

justification once made sense
it no longer
makes sense

[RK, 1/13/2021]

Planned Obsolescence

once stretched out a rubber band
never returns to its original shape

fortunately rubber bands are
cheap and dispensable
 
once pushed to the brink
affection never returns

the free passes expire, and
a suitcase is forgotten in the train station

[RK, 1/13/2021]

The Wrong Speech at the Wrong Time

I clear my throat, sip water, shuffle notes
advance to a lectern

an even dozen empty seats clatter
tip over in the savannah stampede

the departing dust trail can be seen
from the International Space Station

[RK, 1/13/2021]