I called and called. But
you didn’t pick up. All I
wanted was your voice.
Tag: Poems
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Whoop! Whoop! Red flash. Blue
flash. Bull horn cackles. License
to cover your eyes.
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Battered. Stout. Shoving
the highway east. But she can’t
resist Morning’s arms.
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Escape from pixels
bits and bytes. Slaloming in
and out of sunlight.
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Peeling back pages.
Pen at hand, underlining
the mysterious.
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Role: Stopper. Busser.
Tasks: Sweep behind the back four.
Tidy up their mess.
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I ramble. My words
jumbled, like spilled chess pieces.
Deep breaths. Her eyes close.
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They were gigantic.
Skilled. But I kept showing up,
hoping to be picked.
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I see them. Their pores.
Their textures. Their sharp noses
and broken smiles.
Floodlights and Goalposts 