Monthly Archives: February 2011

Crosstown Boulevard

The crosstown boulevard
Separated the yards
The people on the sidewalk
Stopped to talk
The pharmacist said
He’d rather be dead
He voted Republican
He said his prayers
But the world ended
The policeman said
He voted Democrat
His mum was ill
She couldn’t buy her pill
An ambulance tore by
Down the crosstown boulevard
Sirens blazing
It was too late
It must have been fate
The mailman checked the box
With crossed fingers
Hoped all would be well
As the first snows fell


Love through a Windowpane

My houseplant
Is in love
With a tree
In the yard
The window
So much pain
I’d take it out
To visit
But I don’t
Know which
Tree it is

The Second City

(c) Anders Adermark

The city lights
Made auroras
On the low clouds
Coming in
Off the lake
Heavy with
Held rain
They grumbled
But passed over
Weeping on
The second city


(c) FreeFoto

My tale involves
A betrayal of sorts
Plucked out of the crowd
A train
Carried me through
The rain
All of the lights
In the city
Over the horizon
Met there by a man
With a golden tooth
Who raped the truth
Counting his money
Behind his back
A hundred dollar haircut
With a three cent soul
The city chewed me up
The train spit me out
Back to the fields
Sprung with daffodils
I had betrayed them all
But with one grand bow
Over rows and rows
They welcomed me home

Sweeter Yet

(c) under Wikimedia Commons

Starry nights
Iced with snow
Dripping from
Candy clouds
Swirled about
A honey moon
So sweet is time
As it melts into day
A memory sweeter yet
Sugared by stars
That remind me of you

First Light


(c) ARM

First light casts
Gray ghosts
Against haystacks
Taxicabs and mailboxes
Holding secrets
Before the sun breaks
Unmuting the world
In a colorful chaos
Twittering and honking
Geese fly over the lanes
Set between the fence posts
Where hedges slice the wind
Into sweet ribbons
Stirring before dawn


(c) David Ramos

This life is awash in technichrome dreams
Forgotten in our waking hours
Bleached clean in the sun’s dramatic gleam
Keeping all the time that’s ours

The last developer put to rest
All the spools of fairy folk
They keep now only within the breast
A gleaming golden dreaming yolk