kate-simsWhisper

American

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Rambling On A Sunday After DarkYou told me that you were too wide-eyed for flirting at parties. I agreed. Thought of your eyes. How they reflect starlight. Depths so unfathomable that nothing shallow can survive. You breathe truth but trust nothing. I don’t understand how the two coexist. / The boy down the street celebrates “Darwin Day.” Calls himself a humanist. Proud-wearing his secularism. On his sleeve. I laugh at him. Don’t answer his knocking. Philosophy taken too far is no better than religion. / A woman buys apples and four rolls of toilet paper. Tells me: the only difference between a poet and the rest of the world is, poets tell jokes and leave out the punch line.

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Afternoon NapI met an old woman on Leander Avenue / who told me, “Don’t breathe or the earth / will swallow you whole.” I

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You Have to Look. With Eyes Open.The city reeks of decay. / Buildings crumble like / so much daily bread.

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Truth PocketsThe ***** of yesterday's / plans fell out, rolled down / several diamond-laced gutters.

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The Trash Man ComesSnap, crackle, pop go my synapses in / the morning light. Or maybe that is / just my cereal.

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MeltdownRadioactive warehouse of / ****** up memories / stacked one on top of

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A Song (Revised)I want to say this poem with – / dripping harmonicas / and dying birds.

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The Bucket Boy and the BellsThere is a boy who walks down the street, / 9th street to be exact, my street to be exact. / He pushes a stack of buckets

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sunny side upthe sky looked like / a fish bowl / this morning

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It Gives You AwayYou mocked desire / like it sprang from mother’s lips. / A Bible verse and ten Hail Marys

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