Sunday, October 26, 2014

Morning After



We become the Quaker on the oat box.  

Androgynous.  Buttonless. 

Breakfast on over-buttered toast,
common marmalade;
Cheerios from unwashed bowls,
lukewarm milk.  

Thee and me.

Beige friends, carbohydrates
in dressing gowns. 

Quiet.

Too unawake to notice
if we dawn as man or woman. 



tk/October 2014 


Lovely read by R.A.D. Stainforth...





Sunday, October 19, 2014

Elegy




This autumn finds you
removed from anyone who knew.

Only the maple is at your mercy;
its leaves crunch around the stone
with enough respect.  

I no longer panic about the cracks.
The uncomfortable damp.
Something from the basement
is buried with secrets.

The dreams have stopped.
Your eyes stay in their sockets;
two dark-stained walnuts,
bitter and tenacious.
All the dead are pious.

It suits you.


tk/October 2014



Perfectly delivered by R.A.D. Stainforth...





Sunday, October 12, 2014

Pentimento




Careful consideration shows
traces of underdrawing.

Off-center.  Awkward.
Seed pearl tears dot the canvas.

Then a change of mind: 
brushed over with another venue.

Layers of new whitewash
show the transparency of my skin.

I look taller.  Three-dimensional.
Someone stands close behind.

There are curtainless windows.
Plenty of blue, because it is now.



tk/October 2014


R.A.D. Stainforth enjoys a glass and reads my poem...





Self-portrait by Vivian Maier 

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Harvest




















They spy at windows,
pound open the door. 

Poems are mistaken for sorcery,
intuition as heathen.

There is trial, ordeal by water; 
evidently, I float.

I bob the surface,
fetal against frothy black.

Wicker is made to order,
waist-high nest with a stake. 

They march around me,
army of preoccupied sheep.

Have you any wool?
I decline the blindfold.

Then comes smoke,
my eyes like a startled horse. 



tk/October 2014



A masterful read by R.A.D. Stainforth...