Threshold Pitch

 

Odd, how it is 

The poem always knows 

 

You before you 

Know yourself, 

 

Even in the dark. 

 

 

 

 

 

Gets Your Goat Every Time, Don't It, Billy?

 

The frigging harder 

You try not to sound at all 

 

Like your stubborn self. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enter The Internet, Catlike

 

odds 

are 

even 

before 

you 

 

blunder 

upon 

its 

sticky 

 

threads, 

this 

high- 

tech 

 

arachnid 

has 

 

shrewdly 

strewn- 

 

your 

path- 

 

way 

with 

 

myriad 

so- 

called 

safety 

 

nets 

merely 

 

designed 

to 

leave 

 

you 

dangling 

 

for 

as 

long 

as 

 

it 

takes 

for 

it 

 

to 

devour 

 

your 

in- 

satiable 

 

curiosity, 

and 

would 

you 

 

believe 

it, 

 

it 

looks 

too 

 

good 

to 

be 

true, 

 

and 

you’re 

not 

even 

 

a cat. 

 

 

 

Uppity Second Fiddle To None

 

Don’t bitch and don’t you dare

Hold a grudge either— 

 

Second-best is worse 

Than first only if you can’t 

 

Bear to see another being first. 

 

 

 

 

 

Deaf-mute Janus

 

Who would’ve thought 

I’d be speaking through 

Another tongue one day, 

 

One I never realized 

I had until I heard 

It calling my name, 

 

Sounding out each 

Syllable as if it were 

Reading my lips.