in his beveled bathroom mirror
rising in a billowing cloud of steam
on the glass, hazel eyes gleam
and the outline of a roman nose

blooming like a red rose
in his morning cup of coffee
sweet as sheets of toffee
he'll catch a reflection

floating on the top
swirling in the milky foam
a honey curly dome
outside his cranberry door

rolling in a cornflower sky
strawberry lips painted on the clouds
among the city crowds
the oval face enshrouds

have stopped.
And the ons
turned off.
My ins

running out.
Cherry lips smile
nary. Pushed
into a pout. White

is colored black.
My front is facing
back. All my ups
are down. No longer

get around.
And the new
is old.
Like blue cheese

grown mold.
No green light.
All are red.
No blooms.

The grass is
dead. The ground's
shaded dark. Unplugged.
I lost my spark.

a blemish, a speckle
thrown head first with all the others
with a nose just like her mother's
a little bouncing dot

jumping in the same spot
a cluster of talking cells
that in the sunlight swells
into a crimson patch

that peels and makes her scratch
not more than a circled blot
that long ago has sought
a new direction

another face, a new complexion
but found the ruby clot
shiny, bright and hot
so, smiles now at her lot

A honey field of cornflowers
into a rolling grey sky of showers
all the planted seeds
into a land of overgrown weeds

He turns
back the hands on the clock
I'm a child that cannot talk
the dots on my i's and bars on my t's
are all in a state of deep freeze

He turns
a bright smile upside down
into a brown cracking pale frown
drains all the color from my eyes
I'm a ghost who mournfully cries

He turns
yesterday into a twisted tumor
doing so with cackling humor
today is painted in matted black
has me ******* like a gunny sack

he was a dumb-waiter
champagne and caviar
I felt like a film star
pulled on a cable car
pushing buttons on the steel wall
lighting number/light them all
climbing up the floors
screaming hushed by open doors
and then descend
after the body bend
up and down/in and out
I had you in my mouth
the clank and the clunk
moving around as if we’re drunk
the thrill of getting caught
makes us both hot

dripping in pellucid beads
in the same metronomic
speed. Like dew on
a silver blade or sweat sticking

to your nape when there is no
shade. Hanging off
the end in a bulbous blob
like that of a soupy sob. The long

dull thud of the kerplunk,
like hitting a wall when
you are drunk sits heavy
like a stone. Pearls of liquid

drone. Like rain they pitter-
patter. And when they fall
they scatter like mice back in
their hole, black as a lump of coal.

her voice
like thunder clapping
in a billowing cloud.

She raised
the roof.
She was so loud.

She raised
her fist
high in the air
with a laundry list.
She'd swear and hiss.
Blackened both eyes
when she didn’t miss.

She raised
her only child
like a dog,
on a tight lead
in a drunken fog.

She raised
her rent
to the tenants
to pay the stack of bills.
But it didn't make a dent
in them. The only thing
she dented was the family car
after driving home drunk
from the neighborhood bar,
smelling like a cheap cigar.