poetry – NORTH TEXAS REVIEW

I think that it’s finally time

I think that it’s finally time to admit / I have played in a pantomime

I wish now and then, / For the rain.

Mamma when young / sewed clothes as she sung.

I cut your hair when you died so while you lay / resting you’ll look like yourself. The coffin

Your eyes are as blue / As an 80-year-old shoe / That ran the Santiago trail

the gaping maw of unimaginable void

The war we face / To let time consume, / Or wield it.

The skeletal man walks / Wing-tip shoed to work.

She reaches up with twisted hands / And wicked claws, glinting sharply.

Cute girls smoke cigars. / They cough at cigarette fumes