Little Vines 4/15/22

This week’s selection!

a guest a sister
a dog with curly hair
a tuba stashed behind the sofa
what was going on here while I was gone?

Where I see puzzles and questions
jotted in a notebook
you see recipes that can answer for dinner

do I set the alarm
on this clock that no longer works?

a potential for all kinds of collaboration missed
the twosome on the park bench
never work up the courage to speak

the organist’s fingers
ponder the notes of the wedding march
the bride wiggles her toes in her new shoes
and sets off down the aisle

the seaman overboard bloated and green –
Can you believe they made a figure like this
for the baby’s toy boat set?

the baby flings the peas from her spoon
Quick I put up my hand
ricochet them neatly right into her mouth

the pale sycamore stands stark in the moonlight.
you keep quiet.
the stars shake.

the demoness dancing quick and light
whirling in the shower of rain
the hiss and sizzle of steam rising from her skin

your remorse is
a small tight bouquet
daisies and carnations strangled in a tiny vase

you say a turkey tetrazzini fresh from the microwave
or a turquoise mug filled with rubber bands –
but I can’t tell which is which.

we grow no roses here
therefore no aphids crouch on tender buds
there is no wilt no death – but still, no roses, either

Remember the nurse in that movie –
I have to think ill of everyone, she said –
Wow, that line just cracks me up every time

an olive-green rotundity
that’s how you’ll know him they said

so much more descriptively than
a portly man in a green jacket

Her teeth posed in a great big smile
It makes me wonder: What’s the catch?

downing a box of sugar cubes
five at a time
plus one ant lost in the shuffle

the shape dies
broken in half
all the geometry theorems in the world could
not save it

all the rest is slow and mirrors
and tangled and grudge and stole
and troubles crouched inside a thornbush
ready to drag you in

I was thinking that if
I had not received the letter a day too late…
you’re the one he married

2 thoughts on “Little Vines 4/15/22

  1. we grow no roses here
    therefore no aphids crouch on tender buds
    there is no wilt no death – but still, no roses, either

    Ooo. I wish to learn it by heart and just… recite.

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