Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Ships That Pass In the Afternoon (poem)

Filigree teapot charm
hangs from rearview mirror
Blue Toyota
turning onto Cedar going south
Obama bumpersticker

Sandy hair
White toecaps separating from red sneakers
Calls out “Jean-Paul” to empty field
Purebred Malinois comes a-running

“I just can’t purl – I keep adding stitches”
she says into her pink Blackberry
as she swipes her Visa
at the pump

Only connect!
was once the cry
No easier then
than now

(sit in the blue armchair
knit five rows
rip out two

in the cupboard
5 blends of tea
untouched since June

dog on the bed
red with dark mask
in hindsight
Hèrcule would have
been the perfect name)