Good god core of an onion
snowballing down a hill,
getting more and more
of a -
halfway down and enough
layers there's a wonderful
green glow
you don't notice the patina.
Onion:
down the hill
and more layers
it's even worse than we
imagined,
you take an onion core
bereft of mind
already on the wrong fork
cosseted in reverse
growing stronger
glowing green -
patina.
And then the complete onion,
sloughing off paper skin brown
gungeing in the crisper tray
un-re-pro-duced
the bubble burst,
chips are down.
Showing posts with label poem 16. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem 16. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Monday, January 23, 2017
Mama's chicken soup
My mom brings me chicken soup from DeCicco's
Dave brings me Mama's chicken soup from Whole Foods.
Dave brings me Mama's chicken soup from Whole Foods.
Dave bakes a chicken and asks
should we save the innards to make chicken soup?
Let's not bother, I say
and toss them in the trash.
Monday, January 16, 2017
THE TENS
it just says massager on the box
but he says it's called
TENS
as though that is common knowledge
and i am a silly girl for not calling it that
also when i use it my shoulders scrunch up
and i feel it in my teeth
but it still doesn't feel hard enough
and he only gave it to me so he wouldn't have to give me so many massages
or for nights like these when he's off skiing with the boys
and there's nothing better to do
but lie on my stomach being electrically stimulated by my new
TENS
but he says it's called
TENS
as though that is common knowledge
and i am a silly girl for not calling it that
also when i use it my shoulders scrunch up
and i feel it in my teeth
but it still doesn't feel hard enough
and he only gave it to me so he wouldn't have to give me so many massages
or for nights like these when he's off skiing with the boys
and there's nothing better to do
but lie on my stomach being electrically stimulated by my new
TENS
But wait there's more
On nights when I can’t sleep
I take a tiny piece of myself
and turn it inside out.
I peer closely at what
lays within there, just right out of view.
And when my pinky finger’s
cuticle reveals my past life’s journey,
I close my eyes and watch those
memories play out along their lines.
I traveled to China,
to Japan, to islands unnamed
in shallow seas.
I wore a hat and scarf
at all times and drank
tequila from a tray.
I raced myself on the beaches
and swam inward, with the current.
I turned to tell you that I love you
but was by then alone of course.
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