Tuesday, October 26, 2010

a dream ( for Mandelbrot )

you climb onto me,
and suck me into a rich
kiss, deep and dirty.

when your hands clench my
thigh, white prints are left behind
on skin ruddy with

burst capillaries.
it forms a map -- "i can read
my future in your

leg," you whisper
when you finally release your
hands. i feel relieved.

Monday, October 18, 2010

passive aggression

when you interrupt
me, dear, it makes me feel like
i'm unimportant.

now you are in the
dog house and know it, so you
kindly offered

to pick up toilet
paper and poop bags. even
Steven ? i think not.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

nothing's for nothing.

sometimes when you use
a cat as a heating pad
you think "TERRIFIC !

A FREE HEATING PAD !"
then you remember all the
money you have poured

into organic
kibble and sustainable
kitty litter, and

so you shake your head,
reminded that there's no such
thing as a free lunch.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

lola goes for a swim

then she shakes herself
she's heavy -- big for her age
and her thickness sways

in perfect phase shifts,
periodic and fluid
nose-to-tail movement.

the sun is shining
as each water droplet is
released on its

magical journey;
individually they
are tiny crystals

but together they
form a rainbow spray, soaking
foreign onlookers

Friday, September 10, 2010

tickle, tickle

pickle,
sickle,
george dickel,
costs a nickel,
tickle tickle,
she's so fickle

chortle,
chuckle,
honey suckle,
brass knuckles and belt buckles,
huckleberry,
cranky cuckold,
tuck old tissues in my sleeves

Thursday, August 19, 2010

an afternoon by the East River

"the water's been clean
lately, surprisingly so."
he's in it, knee-deep.

i watch from a safe
distance; squinting, skeptical.
his feet plunge into

muddy sand, making
sucking sounds each time he lifts
them, breaking the seal.

a boat's wake rushes
ashore and my sissy dog
skuttles away quick.

i manage to pick my
feet up (onto my rock-seat)
just in time, thank god.

"what just floated by ?"
"hm. a condom or dead fish ?"
"don't give it much thought."

we share nervous laughs
as i brush myself off and
slip my shoes back on.

belly.

no recollection
of yesterdays lunch save for
the pile of bacon.