This week’s Little Vines.
weak plus status plus unwilling
can you work out the equation –
can you reconcile these variables?
when you pry apart his clenched fingers
of leaving a piece of pie in the dish –
you puzzle over it while I grab the slice and eat it
a frenzy of a rainstorm
clean sidewalks float beneath a dragonfly
on vacation in the city
I’m left with the residue of a complex partnership
of stove and kettle and tea leaves and water –
a sludge of sugar at the bottom of my teacup
The tree always looks all right
until it isn’t
and it topples onto your car
if she can’t cook,
as you say, well, then,
specify your dinner selections very carefully.
the forks wrapped inside
cocoons of white linen table napkins
await their signal to emerge into the light
I’ve got four kids
I live in a terrarium
I couldn’t be happier
Why are you looking at me like that?
with strange silver gold-flakes of
a perfume wafting in her wake, she moves on:
her spike heels stab the carpet like thorns into flesh
A storefront nightclub
The sounds of a séance/rock’n’roll oldies night
The plate glass window rattles. Bricks fall.
not new not sophisticated not quirky not edgy
the pie is falling the pie is falling
it’s a clean entry into the digestive tract!
the skeletons of the junkies
rattle inside their skins
clacking to the rhythm of the dark song
with its cursed lyrics
slap slap slap the sound of
running footsteps and then
whimpers. prayers. screams.
the sparkle of a sunrise in a jewel box
I walk across the lake
in slick-bottomed slippers
tripping on a swell or two
just before dawn
of the toothbrush
stuck half-in the holder in the pink bathroom
the second place award:
a silver grape you can wear on a chain?
I tossed my cigarette into the canal and laughed.
hot dog and mustard
baked sidewalks in the sun
diesel fumes spewed from a bus
street aroma summer mix
sweet pea, I know
it would make any pea angry
being stuck in a casserole like this
I’ve made mistakes I’ve flouted rules
I’ve outlined the edges and then gone over
I’ve burned my bridges with gasoline
Not much for introspection, no, I am not.
2 thoughts on “Little Vines 4/8/21”
What a fantastic variety of subjects, moods, and themes this week. I really like the sensory explosion of #4809 because of the way it conjures up all of those very distinctive smells in an urban environment. I also found #4798 to be very relatable. I have definitely withdrawn into my own terrarium during this past year and am finding it possibly too comfortable.
Thank you. I have always viewed a terrarium as a fascinating mini landscape and I love the idea of being in a safe place like that, but I do see your point. It is hard to leave the terrarium for the bigger world right now all right.
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