Golden Eggs

Cooked, the socks, the pantry stocked,
 
Thanksgiving dinner for twenty.
 
Crab apples around the turkey on a platter I’d serve
 
Modeled from a photograph.
 
 
 
I was modeled on a photograph.
 
Clean floor, it was perfect.
 
One exact book on the table, dust it.
 
I slipped on spilled bath water and broke bones.
 
 
 
I spilled bleach on a shirt.
 
I wore a cast.

More In: Poetry

Rounds

Commonalities

Freeways connect
The Golden State
I-5
Droughts
Prisons
3 strikes
You’re out
Life is no
Ball game
Displacing families
Generations
From
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Chavez Ravine
Giants throw children
In …

Pillbox

O sister on the other side
of the mirror, all sass and vinegar.  
Galaxy of lace and petticoats 
and pretty things swept under 
the radar.  You are a vintage 
ditty, hiding …

The Night Moving

How does the night move?
There must be a moment
when it moves over your body.
You are half night, half day then,
you are a sister to the moon,

The Santa Anas

1.

from here the earth
is a shade of the darkest
blue before black

i look out the window
and i know where we are

where the desert looks
like the ocean at …