After The Kids

After the kids grew up,

Raggedy Ann

married

a Moth

in the attic,

and they had a Child

with her patience and his wings...

so that, one night a man

looked up from his television to find

an Angel

sitting on the stairs.

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India

(for Kelly....she knows why)

Somewhere in India,

I have the long black hair of many incarnations.

Somewhere in India,

I carry a jug on my head, steadied with one arm--

The other

Exists to display my many bracelets.

I have a bindi,

And eyes like the river at night, reflecting torches--

Men are humbled.

Somewhere in the tall, dozing grass,

A tiger admires my sari--

There is a flash, like an instant sunset...

Days are passing in a lovely shade of orange.

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For Trin

I'm an emotional woman.

When I love, you'll know it, the bells will ring,

And if I'm sad, the rains settle in.

It is hard sometimes--

The wind is always blowing,

And I am really just a basket of apples,

Just a straw doll.

Into all these weathers, you come--

Calm as a cup of honey,

And as constant as my need for you;

My darling Trin,

My morning that always appears.

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The Girls In The Graveyard

The girls in the graveyard

Get up and start bowling with somebody's skull;

They form a league

And do it every tuesday night.

They sit on the headstones smoking,

Dissing the living,

While the moon rises cold

And the stars glitter bright.

One gets bored,

And she hops the wrought-iron fence;

Shambling into town

For a less stifling atmosphere.

She climbs in a window.

A woman's bedroom window.

"Is that you, Ed?"

"It ain't Ed...dear."

And after a little time,

After not long a time,

They are sitting in the dark and smoking;

A couple of chattering magpies.

"I've been dead

For a very long time."

"Tell me about it, sugar.

Trust me, so have I."

Confidences lead to kisses

And the blood begins to flow again;

A little Olay and a little oh my,

And neither one of them ever felt so alive.

They join a couples league

And they do it every tuesday night

While a lover's moon shines gold

And the stars,

They glitter

Bright.

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note: I have recently seen this poem attributed to someone else. It is MY poem.

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The Collector

A collector bought my name from your lips

And wrapped it in a drop of rain

Like a ship in a bottle.

I published his crime in a book of poetry,

Which only emboldened him--

He then stole the softness of your hair from my fingertips.

I had him brought before a judge

On a day when the sun fell through the sky like a coin through a slot--

The judge said she was sick of testimony and contention

And declared a carnival.

I was the wheel, both lofty and low.

The collector was time.

And you,

You were the girl who laughed from a thousand mirrors,

Shook her hair,

And never spoke my name again.

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I Stop On A Desert Evening

I stop on a desert evening--

Crouching on one knee, I see your city,

Street signs there I read as a child,

Their language closed and lost to me now.

I have felt banished and lonely--

Looking at the twinkling electric lights of your city;

Without a cloud in the sky,

Many times rain has overtaken me.

The cacti raise their arms and ask why?

I have no answer for them.

I turn away for the last time

And walk towards the morning and the horizon.

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My Little Pony

My little pony

Abhors sanctimony

All he wants is sunshine and a carrot

He won't claw the chair

Or trip you on the stair

Nor hang around the cage and scare the parrot.

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pony image courtesy of thisplaceisazoo.com

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