#oldmen
The squatting men place
the spittoon further away --
and aim into it.
Nov 27, 2023
Nov 27, 2023 at 3:34 AM UTC
all the flakes on a *** tattle years
of gas, oil, matches
flames that spread vitriol
they swell into tickles on thin ribs
where old skin will one day ripple like mayo
over water
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
Why I seem to be fair prey for men my father's age and his friends to boot, I cannot guess. But how do you be friendly while hating their interest intensely? He said, "I saw that look!" and I'm not really sorry he did, either.
(sonnet #MMMMMCMLXX)
Thin blue skies peer twixt greyish clouds a sense
Of bitter air wafts from, as if the pale
Eye of uncertain warmth's half golden scale
Of light is fragile and must tiptoe thence
In fear across these rasping fields 'til hence
Called off, whileas how leaves just whisper, frail
Breaths passing through oer naked boughs' detail,
The maples green yet as orange paints suspense.
He pops his head in at my bedroom door in tour,
And I assure him that, "Oh, I know you--"
While classcal music plays, rehearse in poor
'Scuse memries, 'til oer one say that we do
Not hafta lie: "I'm not availble fer
Whomever--" and he bows...is that adieu?
15Oct16
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC