Marian Brown and Vivian Brown
were photographed oft on the street.
Their identical faces and identical smiles
City visitors found quite a treat.
They dressed for effect
In identical garb:
indistinguishable from Heads to feet.
They started their day
Once the sun had gone down;
when most people their age were asleep.
But Vivian suffered a fall in July
And her memories faded away.
Marian mourns the loss of her twin
along with the folks by the Bay.
If Marian paused by a window of glass
That Sunshine strikes just the right way-
It might seem, for a moment, that Marian stands
once again, with her twin by the Bay.

I squashed a cockroach the other day.

A big, Fat, Cockroach.

It was trying to get away and I squashed it.

Not that I had anything against that, Particular cockroach but, I was bare-foot.

I had tea, And biscuits, And was bare-foot when he made his dash across the corridor.

It took some time to calm down and, Fetch another tray.

When I returned, The cockroach had moved.

A thick, white streak, Of substantial viscosity, Ran right across the floor and, Straight under my door.

Her gartered leg was up on the table.

She removed a delicate silver pistol and, With his back turned, Fired a single shot.

I used a shoe this time, Like a maniac,

And then, Framed by a single, Swinging light-bulb, Waited for the detective.

For all the years I stayed alone,
and all the times I thought I'd fail.
For every day you kept me from derail,
I guess there is no need to tell you thanks..

You know we both need help,
helping eachother will lead us through.

They cut down the old oak tree,
The only place I ever truly felt free,
On top of hawk hill
Its branches were tender arms
Its noble leaves full of mysterious charms
That oak tree and I- we were made of the same stuff
I was flesh soft and thin, he was wood thick and rough
But our essence, our core- it was the same
We were both something that no one could tame
I laid in his arms no matter the weather
And sap and blood throbbed together

It seems like places to hide
Just aren't around anymore
Though there used to be so many
I can't seem to find any
But lord knows I've tried

They clean my room
Mop, dust rag and rough broom
And take down the pictures, the memories tacked on the walls
And hide my old dolls
Because I'm too old to enjoy dolls

It seems like places of solace,
Secret and flawless
Really can't be found
Be they above or underground

I'm big to fit in my old tunnel
My secret, arcane land
Where I used to be able to stand

It seems like finding places of retreat
Has become an impossible feat
Places to love, places to pray
Where are they?

My spot in the basement
Magical despite the smelly mold fumes
Has been filled with old strollers and ripped costumes

It seems like places special and hushed
Have been annihilated and crushed,
Have all but disappeared
Isn't that weird?

But perhaps they have become so rare, so incredibly rare
Because we lack the art of simply receiving
We lack the art of simply perceiving
What is so freely given to us
We search instead of discover
Investigate but don't notice
We sift, unearth, and probe
But we lack practice in the delicate art
Of simply stumbling upon

I wish I didn’t have to leave
I wanted to stay forever there
Beside beauty and in love
Happy to endure a loving stare
But I was forced to leave
All of that loving behind
I was shoved away forcefully
By she who I thought so kind.

A man of syntax and punctuation,
Though not so keen on grammar,
Used the most wonderful words in conversation,
But pronounced them all with a stammer.

Seemingly one-dimensional,
But deeply layered with meaning.
He tore the hearts out of sheep
Just to leave them there bleating.

To death, in one breath, he could swim there and back
With his hair a little more white,
And his lungs much more black.

Like smoking, on fire, his one true desire
Was to burn himself out before his freshness expired.

Now here he lies
All still with closed eyes.
I can't help from thinking he got what he wanted when he died.
I hope he's finally found the answers that he couldn't when he was alive.