Intense chemistry
onstage. In real life, silent,
eyes not quite meeting.
Two actors eating lunch
1
Intense chemistry
onstage. In real life, silent,
eyes not quite meeting.
Morning mommies soon
supplanted by suits checking
BlackBerry emails.
Nearby, a mother
pokes at her salad while her
sons push food around .
“I just want to feel
pretty,” she says through her tears.
She already is.
You ask, I answer.
Opinions fly. No right, wrong.
It’s all subjective.
Trying to make work
indulgent, a nine-to-five
wage slave’s fantasy.
Lulled by summer’s false
start, forty degrees reminds
us that April lies.
Rubik’s cube of words
adjectives nouns verbs form a
perfect turn of phrase.
Like eyes heavy with
grief, grey clouds spill a steady
patter of sorrow.
Pulling apart a
life together, the future
frays like a cut edge.