My husband's poetry

Author: cfblack

  • Foam bubbles

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    the smirking yuppy mural on the wall reaffirms your feelings of inadequacy to the tasks life has set before you and never changes its expression you wish you could sit one more time at your parents’ kitchen table let mom tell you how important it is to lose ten pounds, again listen to stories of…

  • Coffee blinders

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in

    If you sit too close to the register at the coffee shop, every time you look up you stare right at someone’s ass, feel guilty for momentarily judging how a stranger fills out Lululemon yoga togs, wonder how your boney butt appears, look away until someone else walks in and begin another cycle of judgement…

  • haiku turtles

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    periscoping necksturtles cruise murky waterno sun baths today 3-4-24

  • Wet walking

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    water drips from trees, drum rhythm all its own under a shelter by the pond rain returns beneath a lachrymal sky dimples wink open and closed oblivious to rain a pair of geese drift by you drain your coffee dry and step back into the wet 3-1-24

  • spring haiku poker with Maris Burton:

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    I’ll cover your bulbs raise you morning glory seeds and iris rhizomes 2-28-24

  • Monday morning haiku

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    blue and white quilted sky dead, brown leaves on green, green grass red winter blossoms 2-28-2024

  • Pantomime of Jays

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Two geese court on the pond. Solitary squirrel chases shadows in dry leaves. Mourning dove coos it’s sad, lonely call from the woods. Cardinals call from park to neighbor’s house and back, again. A party of blue jays silently celebrate In trees above your head Feral cat stares at squirrel, looks up at birds and…

  • Solitude

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Orange overcast sunrise. On the other side of clouds jet rumbles in the sun. Old man fishes quietly on the shore nods and waves. We talked for an hour a year ago, respect each other’s need for solitude and have nothing more to say. On the other side of clouds, another jet passes overhead, glinting…

  • Silhouette in the Sun

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    she sat by the open window her breasts uncovered reading Anais Nin he sat on the floor in the corner with a notebook perfecting his impersonation of Henry Miller writing a pulp fiction novel when the semester ended and the rent came due she moved home to her parents he moved to the coast and…

  • In the garden

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    they say this is the year of the Dragon pishhh…why not call election years the year of the Rat ya know – the kind of rat that eats the core and leaves the scraps no more animal totems or mythology to explain prehistoric bones bleaching in the sun give me a thousand years of the…