leaves of copper
hung from the autumn branches
as past medallions

They would have given a lot
those paste-skinned kids
with straw for hair
and knobby knees
Not that frail— it seems

Beneath grayish strings
through black rims
one cracked lens screams—
Gets nothing!
Changes nothing!
Ritual words fall—
a rusted refrigerator
shoved over a railing from the second floor

Barking dogs tied to the radiator of misery
fed on rough-house excuses for kindness

Why do people keep children?

Larger than average eyes
huge foreheads of genetic wrong
******* childhood downstairs
while mother is sleeping
I can get used to the smell of cats
Human ***** is not so—
different?
and if I didn’t change my clothes for a week

What do children know?

Jenny cuddles a starving kitten
then releases it to where
they disappear...
one generation after another
Famished eyes
devour anything offered
words...food...***...God

Screams from the mats of string and gray
Scald the frantic instant badly
I watch her bolt beyond explanation
Night gives no reason to let her live....

My faith went the way the kittens go
Hope and a small girl
blend beyond blackness

Life is like a merry go round
going round in circles all of the day
Sitting on a cold, golden horse
well, at least he knows the way.
Because one can get very lost
trapped in all sorts of ropes
some will tether you to shackles
some will give you a bit of slack
But the horse knows at the back
it is not always those finishing first
the winner
the hare and the tortoise sorted that
it is those that went the correct course
those that did the full nine yards
that achieve their merry go round.