The Little Black Dress Just out of reachin a shop window,discreet,one teasing design’sperfection. I am huge,her heart says,and incomplete,without the basic black dressI’m told a wardrobe needs. The deeper she studies an innocent reflection, so greater becomes her restless irritation, until she, resigned, repeats: “Is there no measure,no sort of tapeto offer kind assessmentand aContinue reading “The Little Black Dress”
Tag Archives: acceptance
That Force Which Through The Green Fuse
(January 18, 2024) Outside,puffed birds are actingcrazy today.Perhapsthey have a temporary blindnessgranted themby whichever, whomever forcecan offer kindness on the one hand as antidote for icy truthheld in another.Maybe the flappersare simple, foolish, joyful?stamping wings the way I would feetto get warm? I am glad the long grasswent to seed,the berries to dry.My ordinary procrastinationContinue reading “That Force Which Through The Green Fuse”
The Smallish Artist
December 10 2023 Someday, I will truly understand where I belong, what I should and shouldn’t say in public and whose opinions and actions I should pay attention to. In the meantime, I just say what I like and hope I have good sense. I do care what the world thinks. Perhaps too much. IContinue reading “The Smallish Artist”
The Trees From Which
Those trees from whichgreat violins were fashionedmade sounds like sighing.Bold limbscreaked and groaned,urged by wind that spentmidnightbeing musical. This is not quite the same musica cricket makes when itrubs its legs together at evening,arousing,but you get the idea. Perhaps Antonio Stradivariheard a branch moan,leaped from his bed, thought,“That is my elusive tone!”and ran to hisContinue reading “The Trees From Which”
A Package Of Value
I put away dulled pencils,and the greyscribblingthat screamed back froma near-emptypage. Heeding the howling not,I stepped backfor a momentof what I claim isair. Habit drew me,distracted, to thekitchen,to the stoveand to brief wispsof a sick sweet smokethat might provoke in others,urgent need for caution.Not me.Thus, I grow fatfrom simple constipation. As I laboured atthe potsContinue reading “A Package Of Value”
At The Deaths of Two Children
At The Deaths of Two Children During a haunted day,heavy grey sketched shadow cornersonto a kitchen scene complete,where home’s Formica table,stood as balance point surrounded. On the sideboard,a wooden spoon dripped slow,resting, it’s brief battle done.The smallest voices echoedsomewhere off, amongmuchricherflowers. Shoulder to shoulder they sat,deep sorrow creasing more the browof these familiar witnesses,whose emptyContinue reading “At The Deaths of Two Children”
Robert On The Air 