Dirt

we survey the land

carve out dirt

what is ours

will own us

one day

#5lines #tanka

Cardboard Boxes

the move is done,
from may to july,
from country to city,

cardboard boxes taped full
of stuff you forgot you
ever owned or regretted
buying
on sale
had to have
garage sale deal

better off without
if only there was an available
dumpster

for the bullshit.

endless forms and papers
that protect banks and
mortgage lenders
from losing their precious pennies
they want to lend to you with
a smile
and a blue ball point pen.

borrowed and leased
vehicles, some packed efficiently,
others
oh fuck, let's get this over with,
shifting contents with every turn
and sudden stop, damn, this 
is a big truck to empty
again
again, again...

you get it.

now, we're all happy
to be in the Village that's
really a city
with its back end butted
against
that east cleveland blight,

they say.

I don't know.

seems pretty good here,
that popular buzz about
diversity -
every gender identity and race with
healers and poets,
transcendental dopers, old lady
dog walkers scooping
fresh fecal lumps from the neighbor's
tree lawn,

young black couples - boy and boy,
girl and girl - holding hands skipping
down the street
singing a song, they think
oz is up the incline and around
the corner, they
don't care (why should we),

the overstuffed transvestite top has
five o'clock shadow and
wants to fight
anyone
who says otherwise,

and too fast drivers from stop
sign
to stop sign
on the phone 'cuz Lord knows
your life is so small you
better fill it with blah-blah-blather
like a
wide-eyed
epicurean got his hands on an
all you can eat without getting
sick buffet.

the boxes are now
in every room of the new house,
undecided about where they'll stay
or go.

burn 'em, I say,
for a fresh
start.

Tomorrow

tomorrow -

a presumption held lightly

while we make

a mad dash through

today

Deciding

neither day

nor night

between two worlds

the descent

the rise

deciding in the pause

Warm Air

the furnace air

warms my face

a blush red,

her breath sweet

and quickening


#tanka #5lines

Waking Moment

in waking moment

of a guilty dream

I form a defense

to walk away

a free man


#tanka #5lines

Social

as a child

he was

most social

alone

in his room

#tanka #5lines

Order

gravestones line up

in endless rows

so much time

on my hands

to order my life



#tanka #5lines

Glimpse

Chase (#TMMPoetry)

Lepus chases Orion

in pre-dawn sky

over the horizon,

I follow in my car

on the way to work


#TMMPoetry


This was one of my Twitter poems written with the #TMMPoetry hashtag in honor of National Poetry Month. I was honored to have it read on the NPR program Tell Me More during its Muses And Metaphors series. Here is a link to the program muses-and-metaphor-kicks-off-national-poetry-month. 

Through

through

the trees

she saw

the valley

she must cross


#5lines

Yesterday's Window

spent the day

away

staring through

yesterday's window,

eyes closed


#tanka #5lines

Shared Songs

so our words

could travel free,

we shared the songs

that cut our tongues

in our bladed youth


#tanka #5lines

Crow Struts

a crow struts

in the field

of corn stubs

& wind gusts,

purposeless


#tanka #5lines

Her Debut

her debut

appearance

in an alley

of dream city

was lightly promoted


#tanka #5lines