First Things First

—for Eleni, always 

 

The last thing you wish 

To see before falling 

 

Asleep is the fluttering 

Of her eyelids first 

 

Thing in the morning. 

 

 

 

 

 

Hardly Bellwether

Meretricious 

As a keystone 

Ring scraped 

Off the bottom 

 

Of a dry stone 

Wishing well 

No longer sounding

Whistle clean. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phantasmagorical Doggerel Entrapment

What say we make writing it 

On a whim just for the sake of proving 

It can be done a case of actus reus, 

 

And the malfeasant(s) in question 

Hounded till caught humping 

A bemused muse in flagrante delicto, 

 

Then summarily tried and sentenced 

To be flogged rhythmically to the tune 

Of forty lashes with a wet poodle—what 

 

Prissy purveyors of emasculated poetic 

Truth would dare come forth to accuse us 

Of spreading shaggy dog stories? 

 

 

 

 

Haiku: Putting Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

So many who talk 

About silence; how precious 

They make it all sound. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haiku: Know Thy Inner Sanctum, Wretch

Thrice anguishing he 

Who laughs out loud at himself 

While crying within.