Poetry

This Dream of Ours Shines Fireflies: A Poem for Wanderers

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This dream of ours sits on the water
buoyed by a flame of fireflies.
They dance on the edge of vision
before fading into the arms of the moon.

This dream of ours lives in legs of wood
framed in firelight. Making dawn out of darkness.
It feels smooth in a fist of hope at the edge of the lake
where we stand. Ready to walk the waves
and rise with the fireflies.

Into starlight, beyond thought.
This dream of ours. It breathes
sparks of fire light and flies into a sky.
That we touch with every hand which grasps wood
and walks on, into this dream of ours.
Fiction Poetry

Rubber Duck Pathology: A Poem about the Masks We Wear

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Rubber Duck Pathology

First find a carving knife.
I recommend the one used
On turkey and the occasional picnic chicken days.
No machetes, or butter knives.
We are all humans here.

If you happen to have a Semtex vest strapped label
Of some psychological sort.
Stick the pig that strapped you, first.
Then, find your carving knife.

If you happen to have hemp hair
Or butterfly barrettes of various shade.
Pick red or, purple people eater, pink.
Then, find your carving knife.

If you happen to always take a trowel
to cherry tomato parties.
Brush up on biology.
Then, find your carving knife.

If you happen to have concrete light bulbs
Packed near planet high.
Hold a symposium with dirt.
Then, find a carving knife.

Step two. Pick your duck up.
Behead your duck. Yes,
behead. A half slice is for the dead.
Rubber ducks breathe water.
Did you not wonder why they always float?
Let’s play biology.

When you detach the head, set it on cotton. Step three, grasp body
like a fresh oven bun. Now slice.
See the web of bath mould.
Black skein veins finger from ends to centers.
See the glass froth bubbles of cotton soap. Caught between tail feather and foot.
See childhood imprinted in water.

Carve yours in splashes. Bubble beards.
Liquid cotton and railroad boat tracks.
Digested within your rubber duck.