Blue sky, white feather
floating over 45th
Don’t look for the bird
☯
Her boyfriend blinded
the “Real Change” vendor; no, I’m
not Happy, New Year
☯
All my neuroses…
the Post Office crow, crapping
darts its head left
☯
The candle goes out
as I blow on it; first thing
gone right all day long
☯
Flaming potato
I can no longer trust my
aged microwave
☯
Each day different
from before–fluctuations
form grooves for the key
☯
Might as well laugh now
the pain postponed by laughter
seeps in soon enough
☯
I tear the dead skin
from the sole of my left left foot
and let in winter
☯
David Bowie dead
and I must work through sadness
but still do laundry
☯
Wheeling past window
that flapping black contingent
I can’t quite count off
☯
“I love you too” says
the bum, but his green eyes don’t
sound like my mother
☯
Drawbridge life, one year
flea to immense iron jaws
no beard for refuge
☯
A coveralled tech
his smile just starting to fade
rinses the Honda
☯
Empty out one shoe
over the beach house side porch
muck and sand spiral
☯
Asleep for my sins
in the back seat, not to drive
until Chicago
☯
Today was not much
of a day; killing-jar grey
…crunch of Cheerios!
