“T” AS IN TAUT
for Tom Clark
To hold the line steady
through countless
poem-years.
Not a slacker,
he taught us that –
as one who truly
stands by his word
when words
seldom mean what
they’re meant to.
JITTERMAGNET
Chaos amulet.
Nervous soda —
sipped like static
through a straw.
BLANK BAG
I dream of losing
my purse again.
Have gone out
without my personhood.
Am just a penniless
ghost again,
unable to buy
a return-ticket.
The sales counter
is the border
of this country.
EVERY REVERIE
Stuffs the ears
with cotton candy –
unheard of
sweetness
that liquifies
the brain first,
then the body.
Life as an amoeba
was good.
After that, too many
worries — lost
in a complex forest.
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