lunch on tuesday

go
on and
play it like
there is
no
other
say so
than the sound
of your
trombone

how
easy it
is to fall
in love when not
blinded by facts
about intended
purpose

when
a thing
catches your eye,
it entices me
like moth-beguiling
starlight

they
don’t need
to say anything.

i’m
trying to
get to you

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,
A boy called Edmund eats Turkish Delight.
I remember reading it around age
ten. I couldn’t imagine what
Turkish Delight might be,
so I envisioned
fried chicken
instead.

stitches
rhyming slang
forgotten camera batteries
standard practice, mumble, mumble
strawberries, raspberries, blueberries and, uh,
some confusion about peaches and nectarines.

‘brave’
is such
an odd word
to use when there
isn’t choice in the matter

more
peevish even
than prickly pears,
these crabby old women,
rallied by a little sunshine,
will transform their pinched maws into
wide-eyed gapes, issuing forth outrageous, trumpeting roars.

not
in cracks
but in shadows
they listen,
lucid.