Sergeant's Wife's Orders

Mosquitoes dead so red against the glass. 
In wok the frog legs jump and dance, sauté.
The keen scent of citrus and lemongrass 
of cleaner won't allay my nerves, tonight.
Kangaroo paws and dogwoods, pinks and mums, 
police the flagstone walkway.  Sergeant's wife, 
her boyfriend, with their standards, class, and such,
would they consider this bit strange, bit trite?
Bring the caviar, suckling's head, and change
out of your gray jumper.  Recall they asked
for black pudding, sweetbread...I know the guests
will judge us people always judge you judge.... 

Short Poems #3-4

His Love was Thrashing 'Gainst her Heart

His love was thrashing 'gainst her heart, 
then pulling back, releasing shards
of colored glass—erect like guards.
His love and hate displayed; like art.


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Perfumed Sunspot

The alley boys had asked if I
had tasted June's perfumed sunspot.
I've gauged devotion only by
the nightly pecks of moonless sky.

But Looking Back Tonight…

As I look tonight I see a clock that is cracked. 
My muffins tucked in bed, so we’re alone perhaps, 
the tree aglow in red, and all the presents wrapped,  
a Lego set for Kat—But face it, facts are facts! 
You smashed the clock (recall: my gift the day we met), 
and broke the twenty-year-old glass. Your bags been packed 
for years inside your head.  And yet I’d grown attached  
to whispers in the dark, addicted to your scent….
Though you left, it was your orchid pillow I kept, 
and for years and years I hugged the pillow and wept. 
You recall the nights I kissed the curve of your back? 
Hurts me you never truly loved me, loved me back. 
Now I know the thing was just a lie, was an act... 
But tonight I’ve you, my happy family, back.   
And looking back tonight I see the clock…intact.