Oh Peteena

Oh Peteena

Oh Peteena,
Teen and Pet.
Your fragile cast
of lash and tail.
Your quiet number.
Your avid fans.
All the places
you have been;
Zero Cool Nebraska,
Hasbro Japan,
stage and screen
and Xerox machine.

Signified inside
your Q-T tail,
your hithered eye.
Egyptian Goddess
in gentle white slavery.
Front leg girl
with the back leg story.
Oh Peteena
Tell me more

Cyclops Lover

Cyclops Lover

Cyclops lover,
You put the third i
in irresistible.
You make the me
in remarkable.
You set the u
in undone.

That sharp little bit left

That sharp little bit left

You moved after
you were orphaned
and we lost touch,
or was I shut out,
and either way
it was gone.

Some mistake I made
that was never mentioned
aloud
but broke it all
down to less than distance,
or convenience,
or time.
Less than any
excuse.

If only I could recall
with certainty,
but a thousand slights,
a hundred hurts,
countless unforgivables
cloud all my friendships.

All those things
we forget
to ask forgiveness for.

Was friendship the price
of death
or distance
or deeds undone
or was it something simpler
like sour lemons
or the feeling of nothing
between two and time?

I regret little.
But I regret that vine
allowed to wither.

That Song For You

That Song For You

What is it about
those full women
who live life
like it’s the syrup
in a flower,
or a slow drag inhaled,
or pages of a book
under the shade?

Slowly, fully, alive.
They always get
exactly what they want.