My Mind

slanted as this photograph
the perfect spot begins
nouns and verbs gather in daymoon

a metaphor is birthed
unexpectedly in a place made of pomegranate juice
an eldery man and woman lean over a bridge

their red shirts reflect like a scarlet lily pad
i understand their language their body parts
the dizzying spacing of W O R D S

much of which is made by wind
returns and sweet touches your throat
adding C A P I T A L letters to your speech

frequently
and profoundly
evermore

‘Weirdest Peoples’

Son, your ability to expel me into laughter is remarkable.

Whenever you miss me just look through this and in there you’ll see me.

‘Yea this makes no sense its a binocular mom it makes no sense I think I see you mom’

Gavin oh Gavin your imagination is superb.

And yes we are the weirdest of peoples.

But I believe you darling say it best . . .