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Sugar down the syrup in the Queen Anne's lace |
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Shining in the light of nightshade |
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Cultivating unsophistication in my face |
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Trying to think of nothing to say |
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Grapes gone sour and the spinach went to seed |
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(it was spindly and sick from the outset) |
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Waiting for the hour with the wherewithal to leave |
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Patient as a dog for its master |
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Aubergine |
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The Labrador was locked through the promontory rock |
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She called down, said time is an illusion |
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An inconsequential shift as the continents drift |
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But my confidence was crushed and I miss you regardless |
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Aubergine |
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Aubergine |
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Aubergine: You can be your body but please don't mind |
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If I don't fancy myself mine--you at 32 still tied to your poor mother's apron strings! |
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Sorrel in the gravel and the saffron robe |
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Sleeping like a shark in the cord grass |
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Until I saw how far I traveled down the solipsistic road |
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I climbed out to ask for directions |
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There was not a pond in sight and here I'm gasping like a fish |
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In the desert with a basket full of eggplants |
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Who asked about the passage of the Bible on my wrists |
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But I couldn't catch my breath enough to answer |
