Valentine 1

riddled with hours
part time, full time
time after time

I await a verdict
emotions do not fit in
prosecuted with no parole

the natural lifespan of
three score and ten
is just enough time

[RK, 2/17/21]


Time Travel

This only works for short periods of time.
A day, a fortnight, a month, tops—
then oddly, moments loop back
to where I started.

The O.E.D. lacks
a proper definition.
It’s an organic natural event.
It happens when I am distracted.

The R.E.M. state begins, all
choppy video and random audio.
Nothing is connected.
I cannot convince you otherwise.

Electricity and magnetism figure in.
Occam’s razor figures in, and
like Cassandra, no one believes
the time traveler’s tales.

[RK, 2/17/21]


Pincushion

I pretend it’s a hedgehog
porcupine, prickly pear,
Rhodesian Ridgeback.

Flaunt the obvious and
emit your uncertain polar light.
I’ll name you Aurora.

Carpet tacks, pushpins, and thin
tungsten wires. The softness
between push and cushion.

[RK, 2/17/21]

Piñata

Gaudy tissue paper skin
and instead of candy,
a stomach of wishful thinking.

I tried to slit open the sky
but the sky heals its own wounds.
You called it correctly.

I look up, photograph
random clouds, flocks of birds,
allow rain to speckle me.

The envelope has a six cent stamp
and the address is faded.
I’m always slitting it open.

[RK, 2/17/21]