Thursday, December 13, 2018

Grip

I'm hopelessly tenacious
trying to hold onto what is mine
or what I hope to be mine
guarding my territory like an ineffectual kitten
my little corner of the universe threatened once again
by shining stars newly discovered
and here I am, the smallest moon
orbiting around a planet I cannot pull
unable to eclipse or even turn a tide
what little order I restore on the planet's surface
gone unnoticed, for I do not illuminate
like those stars, or even intrigue like stardust

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Pond, Central Park





Fluffy punk ducks

strutting across the new grass.
They don’t have time for sparrows,
shrugging at the geese,
who don’t mess with the mallards;
They have a reputation with the ladies,
will rip that bread right out of your boy’s hands-

And they don’t sit for no one.

Friday, August 12, 2016

You find the ordinary in the extraordinary,

sitting like a sort of Buddha on a lumpy couch, harvesting ugliness

while pretending you are fascinating. I haven’t traveled much,

but I hear there are far-off lands where the people would sigh in fascination

at your kind. Well, here you are as exotic as a French fry.

To be fair, I’ve always had an unhealthy thing for French fries.

But you – you’re not even a McDonald’s guilty pleasure.

You’re a nameless Midtown deli’s flaccid excuse, and I’m not even hungry.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

This Tiara

I am the queen of the crosstown bus
I wear this tiara to distinguish myself from the common commuter
My head held high, the Swarovski crystals glisten as they reflect off the MTA's windows.
Curtsy to my quirkiness!  This is my kingdom.
Yesterday my carriage pulled away before I could board.
My tiara went askew as I gave chase.
This mutiny did not go unnoticed.
One will write a scathing email of complaint, or a royal Yelp!

Monday, September 07, 2015

A late onset loss
When panic attacks
With heat waving in
The turn of September

In interrupted thoughts
Start of an ending
I venture too far
To fall back again

Procession of dry tears
And rude waking dreams
Opening my book
While the phone rings

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Spring Sonnet

It's a tiny squeak of Life, at first blink
Where whispers have yet to find a home
The air smells different today, I think
Lighter, even while excess weighs down
We begin to own the earth again
Bones take coaxing to creak come morning
No longer a child - don't want to be
Even so, I'll dress bright as I like
Just like the tween discovering her point
And I'll eat the gummy vitamins
Paid for with the hard-earned cash derived by
My very grown-up office job
While I am barefoot come lunchtime
And I'll decide if my verse shall rhyme.



Monday, March 31, 2014

too bright



The lights of the streets are too bright for the stars
To shine upon people of the pitiful pavement-
Artificial glitter, giving hypocritical heat
Behind fences, flowers are wrought with homesickness
As the screams of traffic and haste, going, going, 
Never fleeing fast enough to escape the concrete,
While untold millions stacked, piled vertically
Withdraw into similar scenes, absent experience
Painstakingly documenting the unmemorable.