July 22, 2014
July 22, 2014 § 2 Comments
the quiet guy with
the books goes inside and
yells at himself
where are they?
the moon the crow
that belongs to this sound
men who dress
as skeletons we take
them for our fathers
little black beetles become the broccoli
the green egg is really green
the cats agree
rabbits act differently
than cats
pressure from
the nozzle the hose
doesn’t know it’s off
on the spectrum
July 19, 2014 § Leave a comment
the fence is the gaps
between slats let’s
forget our manners
spruce
July 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
pine cones hang like
the cocks of men who stand up
too quickly after making love
PAUL MILLER ant ant ant ant ant four
July 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
gazing on
her sleeping back
sounds of rain
forked lightening
out over the ocean
her warm fingers
evening breeze
a white moth floating
in the dishwater
pear slice falling
to the kitchen floor
pale moonlight