Poetry

Variations on a Theme

IMG_8358.jpegI have never known where
I am going less,
than at 8 o’clock on a Tuesday morning
staring at a pale face in a
pale sink mirror,
waiting for reluctance to
magically transform itself-
by power of necessity alone-
into happiness, for the day

I have never known where
I am going more,
than at midnight on a Friday morning
floating through a world that has
put off its daylight habits
to turn happily in darkness-
where the space between today
and tomorrow
is once again
forever

Poetry

Do Nothing, Wait Two Weeks (Villanelle)

The art of dying isn’t hard to master-
simply remember to do nothing at all,
and watch the world fall into quiet disaster.

To sleep is to urge the world to end faster,
inviting the snakes to climb over the wall;
the art of dying isn’t hard to master.

Build your walls with crumbling plaster,
burn the bread and poison your hall,
and watch the world fall into quiet disaster
Continue reading “Do Nothing, Wait Two Weeks (Villanelle)”