March 20th, 2010
sounds #1: third wheel
Conversation
unpredictable and precipitate
as stalactites
mostly silent
but for broken
dripping
deep in my throat.
Jitter
of your foot
without rhythm.
Cutlery scrapes
her plate.
I have nothing to
say to her
and I don’t
want you anymore.
March 19th, 2010
making #14: solo
There’s fish in the sea
but not for me.
Teen girls
board the bus
in shoals
shallow and
glistening.
Driver rearview-
mirrors their legs
while stopped
at the red.
Old bloke picks me
to give advice to—
it’ll be cold tomorrow,
he’s lived here since
1946, before
supermarkets,
before they built
the road.
Calls me ‘luv’
as expected
leaning to
my shoulder.
Leaves me hoping
for more
at his age.