Pruning Deadwood

Diplomas slipping like fish 

into a bag of rusty tools.

[LSS, 3/31/22] 

Daylight Saving Time

I received the initial images 

from your time zone 

and have spent the day 

folding the extra hour 

into my gloaming ambition.

[LSS, 3/22/22]

Three Days in Early March

One small wave breaking one small stone in one quick moment of perception.

Determine a way to get others on the committee to help with the swimming.

Is this the right way to send a message in a bottle?

[LSS, 3/5/22]

There Is No Bridge

An entire civilization 

of beach stones 

having conversations 

in over-lit bedrooms 

and laundromats.

[LSS, 3/5/22]

 

Self-Portrait with Wall Clock

A new territory 

opened at dawn—

I use a robin’s nest 

for a mailbox, coins 

fall from the sky, 

but there is nothing 

here to buy.

We stayed young 

too long.

[LSS, 3/2/22]

Addresses on Onion Skins

It was the only way to keep track 

of all the mutinies we’d ever staged.

You had yours, I had mine, 

and only the wind to keep us 

informed.

[LSS, 3/2/22]

Betrayal

our pinball machines are dusted with snow
in an alley behind a bar in Oconomowoc
the neon Pabst sign flickers all night long
people we only knew in passing, pass

our loose change rattles around
in that emotional, psychic head space
there must be limits to how many quarters
we can drop, before we go broke

our filed claims lost in bureaucratic labyrinths
foolscap moldering away in metal cabinets
the registrar has no memory, cannot find
our statements, signatures, or photo IDs

our narratives refolded and creased until
the graphite smudges into gray nothingness
those bells, buzzers, and flashing lights
bluster, bluff, and finally betray us

[RK, 3/2/22]