|
division
1
I
Do Not Expect To Be One Much Longer
It's
Not Longer Than a Life.
Wear.
please,
continue.
The
Visitor's Eye.
Were
You Listening.
Yes.
Regretting
The Night.
Surviving.
|
Breakfast.
Place
mats made of brown
leatherette, the crinkly kind,
you can peer into the cracks.
They match the seats
that swivel, with wheels.
Can't hold still
when you cut with a fork.
I wanted
to use my knife
to spread the butter on thick
but I could see the hard yellow
of yesterday's eggs
crusted on the edge
like the toast was meant to be
and the microwaved coffee
was cold.
[ The previous poem | The
next poem ]
|
division
2
You
Can Peer Into The Cracks
Breakfast.
Things
Happen.
Blind.
Dating.
A
Borrowed Bed.
A
Love Poem.
I
Remember.
Through
My Mother's Eyes.
|