Response poem to Steve Fuller’s poem In the Cafe All are welcome at the Go Dog Go Cafe I stand getting wet in cold rain
Category: Poetry
The Name They Call Her
always said with venom always intended to punish “how dare you?!” it asked insinuating that she was uppity presumptuous a ball breaker to draw a
The Jealous Rain
a jealous rain fell from the envious sky soaked your clothes translucent caressed your hair like a lover left lingering droplets on your eyelashes that
The Gifts I am Given
the mirror that I look at myself in is old dark fractured wavy distorted it is as if these glass fragments have writing scrawled upon
A Suitable Period of Mourning
I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in solemn
Morning Tanka 3
Dancing in the dark With the demons in my head I lead, they follow Our steps familiar, practiced Shall we waltz, foxtrot , tango?
Tarot
it took time to reach the dusty crossroads but only a moment to sell my soul to The Devil a willing sacrifice I signed the
Petals
you peel back my layers slowly gently reverently one by one petals of a zinnia bud I take a risk resist the instinct to stay
My Beast
caged beast hidden in my breast screams inchoate rage beats its fists into bloody pulp against metal ribs until they splinter reunited we cling fiercely
