Long Black Train

It remains 

A mystery how 
It pulls into the station 
Never late no matter how 
Long you wait.

Incurable Romantic Thinking Out of the Box

I know deep down
in my bones the moon really isn’t 
the moon and the earth isn’t the earth either 
and not only that but everything else 
in and under the heavens 
must be more than what it seems— 
even the air caressing my body 
smells mysteriously of moldy green cheese. 

Weary-eyed Vigil

Incredulous as it might seem, 
There’s a part of us 
That never sleeps at night; 

It watches over the other parts 
To keep them from falling 
Into a deep, interminable trance— 

Trust me. I’ve been there and back. 

Nebulas

Crux: 

To far too many, 
Apparently not enough 

Stars falling 

To pinpoint the heart 
Of the matter. 

A Poem Should Be (12)

Both ingenious and ingenuous, 
Should it not? 

Like our Spot here picking 
A cool shady spot 
When it’s sizzling 

And curled up 
On steaming hot asphalt 
When it’s not. 

Gravitational Pull

Believe it or not, 

What he wanted always fell 
Within reach or it did not, 

And he always rose 
To the occasion, 

Whether it was what 
He wanted or not. 

Aphrodite Awash in the Limelight

When she crawled out dripping 
Wet from the primordial slime and bared sharp 
Beckoning phosphorescent teeth, 
Those who went gaga moonstruck

On the strand moved ever closer, 
Took the plunge and grunted 
They had never before been 
Blinded, sucked in by a more wondrous sight. 

The others stranded in the forlorn hinterland 
Had to make do with a less fortuitous fate— 
Such light as they bathed in was toothless, 
A gaping black hole appearing eons too late.