her finger
on the knife.
It slipped out
from under her hand
as the man in her life.

She cuts
out of class
to grab a smoke
and a nip or two.
Stalls as she sits
on the toilet
down the hall,
till the bell clangs.

She cuts
a rug
at the club.
Puts on a **** red angora
sweater. Wears her hair up,
layered and feathered
just to lean against the wall
and see her friends asked
to dance.

She cuts
to the chase.
Doesn’t like puny talk.
She fidgets with a pencil
making doodles. It’s
agitating as her brother
slurping his noodles.

a tree
I’d lend you
my leaves,
a canopy of shade
on a scorching day.

If I were
a book
I'd lend you
my wisdom,
so, you can rule
kingdoms.

If I were
a turtle
I’d lend you
my shell.
Housing you
from strangers.

If I were
a bird
I’d lend you
my wings,
so, you can fly
with the eagles.

If I were
a mountain
I’d lend you
my summit.

But all I can
lend you
is a hand.

that road the mud
mixed with the snow
is sweet as Oreos.  Your hands
are so discolored you can’t tell

black from yellowed. The air
smells of cough syrup. And your feet
****. The blisters sharp as darts. Your
glasses are grey. A lifeless ball of clay

you are. You dig a hole to see
if men live lower than you. If
your shoes are a roof. Your body
a smoking stack of a hundred proof.

the sun will rise
high as apple pie
in blue chiffon
as the day you were born.

I suppose
the rose will bloom
in the garden. The petals
won’t harden
as I.

I suppose
the salmon will jump
up the waterfalls,
ducking bear claws,
******* up
water as straws.

I suppose
children will wet their toes
playing in the snow. And their faces
will look as cherries. Their breath
will hover as a mother.

I suppose
the earth will orbit
the sun, as another year is
over -

You've stopped growing older.

down
as my *****
to my stomach. With Covid,
the stocks took a plummet.

Everything backs
up
as the drain
in my tub. The acid
in my esophagus is thick
as a hippopotamus. And the line
into the store is a mile
from the door!

Everything slows
down
as my bowels. It *****
as I’m older. No pun, but my metabolism
can stand a motor. And my life's
put on pause. This virus
made new laws.

Everything speeds
up.
Time is escaping. But the death toll
is breaking me. We're making
history!

can’t tell the date
of spring. Look for a shy blade
of grass poking out of
the wet earth. See the buds

pop out on the branches
like a sneeze. Listen to a kite
as it ***** in the breeze. Hear
the children running to catch it

as it gets tangled
in the trees. Smell the pulpy
squeezed lemons from the girls
on the corner, the waft of

the burgers on the grill,
and the buns getting warmer. The robin
chick staging a dance as it tries
to fly. But all it can do is prance,

as the bunny hopping by. The crack
of the bat as it drops to
the ground. The clang of the bell
as the ice-cream truck turns around.

cannot remove the mats
and tangles of this life. The prongs
are broken on the pulls. The knots
are raging as the bulls. The handle’s

broken off.  It wasn’t a quarter
the cost. So, you cut it off,
like you did as a child. But the tattered
splits make you look wild.