in beds where flowers grow
well-kept, neat and clean
they've let the kale and cabbage go
it's rather a pitiful scene

they grew quite tall, they flowered
and then they went to seeds
now they're looking oh so cowered
they could be seen as weeds

their stems are gnarled and knotted
the ends are brittle brown
their roots will soon be rotted
the whole plant is dragging down

please someone be gentle
save them embarrassment
these lovely ornamentals
that once were so elegant

Inside . . .
my frozen heart your love resides
a sunset kept by timeless sighs
my how it's surrounded by my lies

Midnight hour . . .
finds me on the edge of poetry
with paper hearts that be
the chains of your memory

Yet . . .
I reach into my heart
to warm the hands that are so stark
the love that has made it's mark .

Forgiveness . . .
I ask only this of you
but my pleas are more than the stars above the blue
More than the number of drops of dew

Twilight . . .
filters through my minds eye
as the time now turns to fly
I turn to night , cold , goodbye

We were so small,
But we felt galaxies within us—
Miles and miles of open road, splintering off in all directions.
We'd talk all night about how one day
The boys would come running and we'd pick them off like flower petals, humming
'He loves me, He loves me not.'
We'd dream about having our hearts broken,
Just like in all of those movies,
Hoping to one day be shattered so beautifully
Our hearts would become kaleidoscopes
When the light hit just right.
We'd stare at the old women in the theaters who talk too loud,
Ask too many questions.
We swore that'd be us one day,
Kids grown up, husbands at home,
Laughing at the little girls wearing high heels and bright lipstick.
But you found a boy, and he has a car—
He says you must be the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
And I'm not even a single star, much less a whole galaxy.
Time doesn't fly away—it dies,
And I've come to realize that we die with it.

There was once a family of slugs
That lived in a cabbage patch town
They went out everynite to eat
Found a cabbage and began to munch down

All through the night they could reduce
A cabbage to a stalk in the ground
All night they would munch and munch
But you would never hear then , nary a sound

But Mrs. H was becoming fed up
Her patch was the proudest around
With malace , blood red , she schemed
She vowed to eliminate all those clowns

She purchased the best poison they had
She tried every trick she had read
But the slugs just kept on coming
Every night, long after it was bed

Then a local wino for he said
Out of the garden he could take
These inconsiderate gluttonous
Stylommatophora Pulmonates

So he began by opening a beer
Placing some into a sphere
Putting them by each cabbage head , he said
"This will make those slugs disappear"

But by morning the cabbage was gone
Worse yet so was the beer and
If you looked even more closely tiny signs saying , "Next time make it import you here !"