Thursday, January 29, 2009

Goldilocks Paradox

In the den of evil and fright I pause
to taste the mornings and evenings left behind.
Audacity.
Crouching in a foreign home, I cannot
help but be fascinated by the debris.
Remains, discarded. I want to learn how to learn,
I want to dig through a stranger’s banana peels and tin cans and find
meaning. Definition.
I am lost in these puzzles of refuse, these crosswords
of time and place,
sudokus and jigsaws of home.
Sprawled on the floor, I am a trespasser
of curious intent,
I am sticking my fingers
in all your pies, I am dissatisfied.
You disappoint me, with your packeted sugar.
You do not scare me. I have uncovered
your ordinariness,
show me those claws. I dare you.

Thursday

In the green darkness of early morning
I woke in the silence of snowfall.
Restless in my flannel nest, I could only
lie, eyes full of dark soft
snow, landing on my heavy chest.
And so I waited,
pillowed and weighted-
wishing and wishing for you.

Desert

Drizzle me with honey,
fill my hair with chocolate, paint
my stomach with orange glaze.
Make of me a delicacy.
Spin sugar from fingertip to elbow-
cover my eyes with raspberries, I beg of you,
smother me in puff pastry,
take what you will, only
don't leave me behind,
I beg of you.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

January Alley (for my dad on his 59th)

A potato moon hangs low over the horizon,
the roads are a paste of sand and old snow.
Quiet passing lawns glow white in the dusk
as the little black car rumbles through the evening.
No lights on the island, black trees reflected
in the navy glass of the water.
The little house is nestled under dark trees,
the white shapes of submerged wheelbarrows,
rakes, and bicycles dot the front yard.
A gust of ice and woodsmoke fills the nose.
The windows paint squares of yellow light on the snow.
A cat twists about your ankles as you step out,
pumpkin colored even in the dusk,
his nose dark with the cold.
He follows you as you climb the icy steps
and open the stubborn red door into warmth.