Short, Short Poems
So much for keeping up with daily entries! Saturday night, I was at my aunt's house for our family Christmas thing, right smack in the middle of a bite of turkey dressing, when my throat suddenly went "HEY! PAY ATTENTION TO ME! I HURT!" Within about thirty seconds I had a fever, which thankfully didn't talk, but was annoying regardless. I've been in bed ever since. But I'm determined to keep with the writing-every-day routine, so I made sure to scribble a few lines every day. Very few. These are the results.
Song for a Shy Girl
Midnight shows up with a thousand lost things:
the black rat on the fencepost,
a flickering street light,
you in your room--
A seed in a stone husk
set below the moon.
Owl Catches Fish
This is an ode to claw-grazed water
to the parting of the scales
to an open heart,
like an old vaudevillian,
beating its cold, fishy tune for an audience
who's only interested in the snack bar.
Long Night in the Tourette's Ward
Tick. Tock. Tic.
I was really proud of the last one when I wrote it. Laughed until I almost peed -- but I'm pretty sure that was just the NyQuil talking.
Song for a Shy Girl
Midnight shows up with a thousand lost things:
the black rat on the fencepost,
a flickering street light,
you in your room--
A seed in a stone husk
set below the moon.
Owl Catches Fish
This is an ode to claw-grazed water
to the parting of the scales
to an open heart,
like an old vaudevillian,
beating its cold, fishy tune for an audience
who's only interested in the snack bar.
Long Night in the Tourette's Ward
Tick. Tock. Tic.
I was really proud of the last one when I wrote it. Laughed until I almost peed -- but I'm pretty sure that was just the NyQuil talking.