Xenophiles see it all the time.

The transubstantiation of matter
causing hysteria among every culture.

One alchemical shift from lead to gold
and you have empaths weeping over asps,
telekinetics dropping things on fairy's heads.

A tiny fusion of atoms and the next thing you know
satyrs are dancing with dingos, sphinxes are doing the two step.

Who knows what the next time/space shift is going to bring?

Sigh...........makes for a long day at work.  Ya know?

Aged patina of ivory keys.

Chipped at the corners.
Black and white worn.

Still, as always,
able to coax beautiful notes
From willing keys.

To lighten the mood
or heighten suspense.
Notes tumbling one after another.

Each key, a single note.
When enchanted
able to suspend reality
in concert with its kinsman.

When a hearts 

home
is stolen

it is replaced by 

things, that are

unkind, unfit, 

luring of lies, 

masked in 

bone deceit.

A 60 walt bulb disguises.

only
With a swift hand

pushing back the 

blue curtain and

the brilliant light 

of honesty
reveals masks 

lieing

down, dead.

he was a burly man
maybe mid-forties
she was nineteen,
a little naïve
a little Lolitaish
she didn’t know him
nor him her
he wore his uniform
the cloak of power and authority
like a sheath on his *****
the only one he had today
her ******* chafed as her bra bit
jeans over tightly wrapped buttocks
she pulls the cord to stop the bus
it is her stop
two blocks from home
she gets up and turns
to face the door
he eyes her from behind
with vision hungry for a taste
just a taste
of what lies beneath
she is thinking about getting home
before she freezes
the door opens
she takes a step down
unaware
he gets up silently
and pushes her out
“that’s where you belong you *****,
in the gutter.”
unexpected tears mingle
with rain in the mud.



copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2011

her kitchenette
smelled like lust
and strawberries
and sweat

her hair
smelled like trust
and coconuts
and summer air

her hands
looked like daisies
and beaches
and starfish in the sand

her lips
tasted like red wine
and marshmellows
and secrets, slowly slipped

her eyes
looked like diamonds
and oceans
and wide open skies

her love
felt like pennies
and apples
and a beautiful white dove

it isn't like you didn't know, ash and coal spilling from your mouth
like a stone pit the day after a campfire; cold, dead, acrid, gray
but still you want to pry it out of me
reach deep down into my throat
you know i protect it there
too painful to release
but you pry and you never know when to stop
and you never know when enough is enough
bright red stop signs
neon red lights
you waltz right through them
charm your way past
nothing deters, and so i curl up again
a tight, miniature rosebud
vulnerable, tiny thorns
your over-sized hands tear right through
you tear through
and your tearing through breaks me
it breaks it all