Catch Me If You Can, Chumps

The whereabouts of where 

Your promising poetics were 

Headed at any given time 

Were clearly present 

And defined by 

An artful aversion 

 

To working hard 

At nothing save how 

Fast and easy you could get 

In and out without 

Ever delivering 

The promised goods. 

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Haiku: Cupid's Tart

 

smitten lovebirds dart 

in and out of the bitter- 

sweet lemon tree’s heart 

 

 

Mistaken Presumption

The poem does not ask to be 

Taken for granted simply because 

You think you’ve put it down so 

Rightly in black and white— 

It wants to know if you will 

Ever learn to tell the difference 

Between that which is before you 

And that lying between the lines 

Left in pieces behind you.

 

 

 

 

 

A Poem Should Be (21)

 

Fiercely and mercifully just—

As balm is to a wounded heart,

And bane to an incurably sick one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over The Moon Darkly

On nights

Without a moon, I fear

 

The sight of the heavens fills me 

To surfeit.