He doesn’t have to
do anything but show up.
Fame does that for you.
Formally over
twelve years of learning to look
good on this one night.
Cap, gown, diploma,
degree. A sense of self the
take-away that counts.
Undercooked pancakes,
misspelled cards, weeds for flowers.
Love makes them perfect.
such a sweet ride they
didn’t want to leave so they
did Wendy’s drive-thru
She can’t stand her. He’s
her ex, so don’t include them.
Can’t we go alone?
Deciding who to
take like negotiating
Mideast peace treaty.
In it she was arm
candy, someone that turned heads
unexpectedly.
The play was about
them. His unrequited love
her indifference.
M came home and washed
all the dishes in the sink
trying to be nice.
He sent sensitive
documents to a stranger
thinking it was me.
When’s the right time to
wash winter blankets? Last night
I saw snowflakes fall.
Earthworms emerge, splayed
across sidewalks, tender skin
snags on rough concrete.
Our longer springtime
walks knock him out. There he lies
fat happy fur child.
Dog is lagging yet
clear skies pale green leaves urge me
to linger longer.
Who will you be, and
from where? What will have brought you
here - mere chance or choice?
He tours in a case
like an aged Ken, “mint in box”
they’d say on eBay.
Rake leaves left over
from fall. Clean porch furniture.
Spring into action.
All around it, the
town is dead. Pity the poor
taken investors.
A romantic name
for a seagull poop splashed walk
among spray and rocks.
A schoolteacher in
a barrel did what no man
could - lived to tell it.
Where river meets lake
we stand as Toronto gleams
across the waters.
Yet I sit up wide
awake in this country inn,
jumping at each creak.
Our waitress admits
the town has its share of ghosts.
We sleep with lights on.
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