My Poems

creative writing is. imperfections of communication overlaid with art and emotion... recorded semi-permanently. almost painfully deliberate and ridiculous

for Jamie, with adoration

insomnia.                                                                                                            

 

hush grown child, sleep is a minnow –

  hard to catch.

sometimes she’ll swim by your bed, only just

  out of reach

ears scalded, buzz within the demons of yestermorrow

  insomnia

eyes, cracked wide, assessing the

  all-night crew:

                        between ships playing leapfrog and

                        trying to avoid the handsome juggler

                        repetition never failing as an art

– nose, stomach, headache almighty, hayfever, anxiety

   overly aware –

                          Fido undrunk in a chorus of “shut up.” “Hello?”

                        whir whum machines and boom bang elephants

                        well, what color do you want to make them?

                        PRETEND YOU HAVE TO GET UP IN AN HOUR.

                        pay the mortgage on the roses

                                    slip

                                    slop

                                    slide into sleep

                                    (ships playing leapfrog?)

                                    rather weak.

and sloth dance and whales fly

and camels sing you a lullaby

no, darling-child, was not I

just tea-perfume and smiles...

goodbye.