Cunning, no less

whiskers are self-aware we think they train themselves and have a care and so avoid the sink the sharpest razor surest hand might catch them in the pink but the smarty ones just bend, don’t stand and miss the poet’s ink.

More

Sense you all

You won’t have to tell me how to touch. Where to begin. What emboldens, or brings wild abandon. With ease do i see your gilded cage and its fearsome keeper. And, we know why rules were made, don’t we? Your measured steps tell of fear, not of love. I have a fear too, but of […]

More

Muffled rumors

and, why did you cry when you saw that cute little girl in the TV commercial? She was laughing and happy, but you cried. In these bumbling years of ours, never would you talk about being a kid. But someone who knew told, in a monotone, about closets locked from the inside, and fist-sized holes […]

More