my dime a dozen
bird song,
you gong,
and
move on-
i trill
sonnet,
you vomit,
i rescue
hair-
whisperin’
haiku..
you gag,
do i
inspire..
desire me
too?

my dime a dozen
bird song,
you gong,
and
move on-
i trill
sonnet,
you vomit,
i rescue
hair-
whisperin’
haiku..
you gag,
do i
inspire..
desire me
too?

reissuing of collection from autumn, 2021
results from ’round the clock,
retouched and
re-exposed,
24 poems in
24 hours
to divert
hands from strokes
more dour,
24
omens-
24 hours a
season
each turn
hurts,
24 excuses to
shower
in
dirt.

*available at no charge*
no refunds. 😉
+++
e-book: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/QJVrPi4KyTSwL121yU4HSw
document:
took
tomorrow,
hoping today
would
look the other
way,
this old man’s
45..
flips all day,
any day
it skips, it
skips..
spin cycle
sick-
it
skips,
page one
rips..
page two
sticks to script,
time tripping
on loose
hands,
but
a drop
in sea of
man.

rhapsody’s
tricky
to
rhyme
believably,
naturally, certain
words don’t
work,
unglued brain
at work..
pressed to find
catharsis,
tulips planted
where my
arse
is,
rhapsody’s
a trying rhyme,
just wasting
time.
*inspired by Gord Downie Lyric

Blood Moon
Mary
spinning
solo
in
meadow
at dusk’s
kiss,
catch her
flash,
seldom fogged
by shadow,
face to
stars,
next to rusted
wreck
only gets
the
past so
far.

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