Last Circus

My feet lifted off the ground 

as I watched the birds fly home

with the last bits of straw 

from the elephant cage.  

[LSS, 2/15/21]

Valentine

Open the gate 

for the deer 

to browse 

among the winter 

greens.

[LSS, 2/14/21]

Gardening Schedule

Pull the winter weeds, 

maintain the woodland paths

so the hungry deer can find 

their way to your garden 

which you have enclosed

in a wire fence to keep 

away the browsers.

[LSS, 2/13/21]

Reading in Bed

I fall asleep on my back

book spread open 

pages 38-39 slumbering 

like an infant on my chest.

I wake just before dawn, 

turn to face the window, 

watch the snow falling

on endnotes, page 400. 

[LSS, 2/12/21] 

Four O’Clock Blues 

Your saving grace

was that you slit 

only the envelope 

and not the entire sky 

in your fever to know 

what was hidden inside 

that gaudy piñata.

[LSS, 2/12/21]

Tempest in a Teapot

Pepper brings on sneezing
there is no pleasing the waves,
sky, gull, sand.

It’s a metaphorical dance
among dried seaweed
and mangrove wrecks.

I take a chance.
Or, fail to remember
a saving grace.

Slit open the envelope.
Roll up the announcement and
stuff it in a bottle.

Beachcomber wrack and
the trek back to the
parking lot.

Slim chance, no chance,
what is chance?
A metaphor for sneezing.

[RK, 2/11/21]


Narwhal Metaphor

not the olive or whelk
the oyster or conch
but the three centimeter

white auger shell
reduced, shrunken
this is a mistake

possibly, probably,
patently true if it
reminds me of you

[RK, 2/11/21]

Anecdote of the Open Road

Pickle jar full of trucker piss

thrown into a roadside ditch

reflecting the glow of the moon,

a beacon in the night.

[LSS, 2/11/21]

Boarding House

The landlady untethers her house

and lets it drift until her windows 

frame a fresh series of paintings 

to entertain the paying guests.

[LSS, 2/11/21]

Blueprint Blues

You didn’t like 

that house,

clinging so hard 

to the rubble

of its foundation,

so you erased it.

Now you’re drawing 

this house 

adding rooms on top

of other rooms

and painting the walls

to look like windows

looking out over some

abstract landscape

that means nothing

now and never will 

until you add 

the ladders and stairs

and invite someone

to join you.

[LSS, 2/9/21] 

Boudoir

You walk into the room

and feel the inevitable swaying

of the walls around you.

Having confirmed your size 

and assessed the general

fitness of your form,

they wrap their latex arms

around you and draw you

in for the night.

[LSS, 2/9/21]

Suspended Animation

You are patiently waiting 

beneath the sea ice,

the water absorbing and repeating

your treading motions,

until someone swimming

in a warmer ocean

sends a message inscribed 

on a narwhal tusk 

telling you it’s safe 

to go back home. 

[LSS, 2/9/21]