Author: cfblack
-
Street life
Unafraid of the night as if they own the street they strut under the street light Stand at the edge of the park deciding if they’d done enough damage for one night Car lights approach they flee into the woods lights recede One doe appears from shrubbery tears off a last bite calmly follows the…
-
viny ground
one bright blossom unique among green vines would your beauty become lost in a bouquet? eyes unable to linger find subtle hues wrapped in monogamy 3-7-21
-
poem for a climbing tree
When I was young I considered every tree a potential trunk to climb upon I have grown older but I still admire as I pass by your limbs proportion and form Imagine climbing up inside better than any boy before me You smile as I pass by whisper to the wind if I were not…
-
maybe, I’m ok
When I was young I would page through Playboy for cartoons now I do the same with the New Yorker maybe this is a sign of progress maybe a sign of lower testosterone maybe it is both and I’m okay with that An ant appears from somewhere wanders across the page unafraid maybe it’s a…
-
Alice and Chester
Lately, my parents have appeared in my dreams young from before I was born I wonder if they dream of me or dream of a better son Who didn’t push limits get in trouble and grew up to be rich and successful They seemed happy unencumbered by children with dreams of post-war America and prefab…
-
haiku about busy work
middle school EnglishSatanic pedagogytorture by crossword 3-5-21
-
how I became a poet
When I was in fourth grade they tried to teach me violin but I was called a sissy I put down my case and fought When I was seventh grade I wanted to play French horn but trombones were cheaper I knew all the troublemakers and band secrets I’d laugh and would not snitch When…
-
haiku for Saint Anthony
bright green tennis ball floats alone at water’s edge lost without a court 3-4-21 *Saint Anthony: saint of lost items, travelers, and the poor
-
Turning the debri
After the rain you put on old shoes and step outside to consolidate debris you gathered yesterday at the curb With a shovel you turn it over into itself and find despite nature’s best efforts the center is still dry untouched, unwashed and unclean 3-3-21
