January 30th, 2021
And Thou Shalt Judge The Expiring Soccer Mom
after Servant, Season Two, Episode Three, Pizza
Surveil from silk sheets your mortal estate.
On suburban streets, death, afterlife vie
behind grandiose gates. Above play dates,
teammates, cheese pizza parties, skeletonize
with the greatest of ease. Caretakers doze
in proximate chairs. Delicate wraith
tiptoes upstairs in prim servant’s clothes
with bowls of puréed sustenance. Your faith
remakes a cadaverous countenance,
nasal cannula dispensable soon.
Expiring soccer mom circumstances
avoidable if you only commune
with a macilent maiden magistrate.
Worthiness for rebirth, she calculates.
January 23rd, 2021
Wide Eyed
I get disheartened when an artist tells
me they’re bored. It’s especially brutal
if I’ve adored you and the art propels
my own rhetoric, research,
collections of folders some might besmirch. I think
Stanley Kubrick would have approved though I’ve
no warehouse of boxes when I’m extinct
to prove my passion for working still thrives
between poems and books. We live
amidst fascinations. If we stay spry,
wide eyed enough, work is transformative.
Suture eyes shut someday after I die
with the stories I’ve written, some I hoard.
I’ll die exhausted. I never lived bored.
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 