Is it Me You’re Looking For?

Lionel Richie hello is it me you're looking for

There once was a man said ‘Hello’. Who heard no reply from below. He said with grunt “I’ll go look out front” But instead just looked down at his toe. –poem by Colin, day 8 You May Also Like:An Ode to Frida, on a MondayA Good LookEarth Day Haiku (by Tati)Mizzle, Again, Without YouAll the Original Everything

A fitting tribute to artistic madness

Troubadour Dali Museum

Dali broke with the Surrealist movement Cuz they didn’t like that he got famous. Jealous bitches be like “yo Sal, Babe, ain’t no way to make, like, Art and also Cash.” So he and Gala bought A boat and she ditched her Husband and they made out for France to Hide and read and Butter…

In Midair

fog airplane

Another meaty metal body Dangles in midair. Barely seems Suspended; perhaps the Fog holds up its mass and All the lives within. Autopilot disengaged we Route around the weather Rather, we watch La La Land On matchbook screens and Clutch our dancing coffees While Dan the Man takes Berth around a storm maker. I pull down the…

I wonder what JFK would have to say

I wonder what JFK would have to say If he, on the occasion of spring break, Found his flight cancelled. And thus re-booked for such an early a.m. Could not decline the logic of overnighting JFK Queens Radisson. Took the AirTrain to the hotel shuttle to The recently remodeled lobby and The second floor with…

Hold This Kitten, Would You?

Cat paws so cute.

Hold this kitten, would you, While I trick you into Reading poetry. Whoops! Now you’ve done it, Got yerself all intellectified With words in stacks. Poetry, you decry! Save me! Not those tangled up knotted Ideas in shapely stanzas! Look out! She scratches. Still Got her claws. They frown on Hacking off cat digits these days. Ahhh,…

End of Day – Day 3 – Poetry Month

Climbing Trees

End of day lends itself to Gathering ephemera. Unsorted, a day succumbs. It’s all detritus and last-minute noise Eardrums ringing, hippocampus Vibrating. The occurrence of Night surprising as a summer cold, As easily forgiven for the rest it gives. End of day, casting off aspersions Like stitches, or old dogs– What agreement did we conjure…