Northbound on the subwayNever with you have I broken a day, Mister Hook Nose and Faerie Child, worm-eyed Mrs. Romance Novel, on a cargo train of mannequins. But I know I have missed you with gentle-browed looks For we are plastic kin. Ghosts in the panes, I know you see me. My quiet friends, Please don't go. Stay with me 'til the end of the line.Northbound on the subway
My mother's bedroomMy mother's bedroom smells of warm yellows, and lavender ointment. An old clock ticks on her dresser and puts us all to sleep.My mother's bedroom
She nods as I sit beside her to tell her my days and stories. And glance sidelong for judgements. She smiles and looks at my face.
I'm talking to the mirror on the wall in the bathroom, shy and alone and small. But only because I know She looks just like me, and, She already knows what I have to say.
Tick, tock.
My hands are accomplices in the setting of stages and counting out of phrases.
ArtStill Life Captures the dimension of space Under the shroud. snap snap copy copy print print. A shot in the arm for a tired businessman! 30 frames a second. Captures space and time Behind the glass. snap snap copy copy print print. A shot in the arm for a tired businessman! But something is missing, An emptiness, That black well of swirling ink only thus far dabbled. The age of swords has dulled, but ink flows beneath the keys.Art
We are all the stranger, stoic at our mother's funeral. Father the businessman would have cried, But he's a salesma
Poetry
Zest
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