art is an act of love art is a patient mother art is a fiction of love in a beautiful world of mothers that love in a beautiful world
March 29, 2018
Ajax Kallistrate
He had enormous brown eyes, pools of warmth framed by affectionate crinkles. He wrapped his arms around me and I fell into a cocoon spun of equal parts fantasy and fatherhood; sheltered, treasured, loved, cherished. He released me with a sigh.
I dropped another coin into the box.
December 21, 2017
black velvet peach yellow eyes crosshatch whiskered brow furry ear black velvet marshmallow filling spilling fuzzy feather tail amaranth flag nodding a lazy nod loving a chin scratch pursed lips featureless face closed eyes purr rumble sleep black velvet slumber
December 24, 2017
i like the way
my hands look
even
the spots
the redness
the wrinkles
(the new wrinkles).
it's me.
bone
pushing
white and pink
blue veins
scars from
nothing memorable.
these hands can sign
a paycheck, lift
a box, stroke
a cat.
they can smooth
a coverlet, on
a new bed, in
a new room.
they can say
'yes.'
they can say
'i am.'
they can say
'i am free.'
June 16, 2018
Late frost has withered the flowers and no fruit shall set. Not surprised, but disappointed yet.
July 3, 2018
If my cat Pooka was a dragon
she'd be fifteen stories high.
She'd have black scales
and black wings
and be the terror
of the sky.
Her meow would shake the earth.
Her purr would bring down walls.
Her hiss would send the bravest knights
scurrying to their halls.
So should you chance upon her
while she's hunting for a nap,
be grateful she won't squash you
when she jumps into your lap.
April 9, 2018
when you say you need you need penny sharp contradictions in copper fixtures of upholstery stapled picture frames of nightingale doorknobs and curtained offspring collecting rainwater winter in a cup (I wouldn't have said but you did.)
July 16, 2018
silent recycled frost free air and particolored Sunday fruit flies inside the fluorescent breath of organs deaf to the outside world between a punch clock and a pair of shoes
August 10, 2018
everything about me
you said
you liked
everything about me
(i lied)
i said
i'd lost
your number
i showed you a picture
of myself playing hockey
long hair
big smile
thirty years
before
and now?
you said
but
i disbelieved
clumsy buzzcut
lines on my face
your name
your naked feet
you said
your name was Nick
i disbelieved
but i remembered.
July 6, 2018
my fingertips smell like garlic like cooking like a knife and a pan like they never did when i was fed through the bars of a cell with no walls so i don't mind when my fingertips smell like garlic
March 26, 2019
