We had a pact, I thought, we two.
You to your bed and I to mine.
The Munduk Accord.
Why then did you make me
slap you down, and crush you
with the butt of my shoe?
Why did you show your face
to my son, and drop us to the law
of the jungle?
Tag Archives: poetry
If you want to killing your time
Five time zones on the lobby clocks
None of the minutes match.
How can you come and go
When you ought to stay to save me?
While I write others work
One polishes a car.
One cracks an egg.
One sprays ammonia
on a cabinet of glass.
One sweeps.
One wipes.
One mourns.
Silhouette dance
The man with a saw
will cut
what?
Weight of light
Transcript of the shadow
Jehovah’s witnesses
Their eyes apologized as they spoke,
two earnest men, smiling,
backing away as I opened the door.
We’re having an event, we wanted
to invite you.
When they were gone I read of loyalty,
God’s to us and ours to Him.
I saw the next door
and the next eyes.
Monogrammed champagne glasses on a fridge in a dorm
Later you figure things out,
you can’t blame her for fearing to lose
what you’re hoping to gain.
At the time, however, on your monk’s bed,
you believe having promise is enough.
Where you come from, that’s more than almost anyone’s got.
But there you go.
That’s how poor people think.
You have hit the jackpot
By reading this poem.
Or actually, no, sorry,
by reading this you’ve in fact injested
poetic cookies, which are non-material,
semi-nutritive enzymes that excrete a
phosphorous-like substance in the brain.
While benign, these cookies do produce
occasional light shows in the cranial cavity.
If you are against cookies –
if you are really sure you really
do not like cookies and will not
accept out cooky policy
(but who doesn’t like cookies?),
then you can remove them by simply
returning in time to before
you hit the jackpot.
