Just one sec,
Indicating imminent readiness to leave.
But really she means,
A geologic sec,
A serious chunk of time,
Hardly a casual eye blink of impatient time,
Not a couple of wasted, earth seconds of time.
No, she’s aligned with the Creator’s time…
The Pleistocene Age…blink,
The Age of the Dinosaurs…blink…
The Ice Age…blink.
And so imminent turns to slow-burn time.
Let me get a bottle of water,
I have to refresh my lipstick…
I have to change my blouse…
I’ll just be a sec.
Little hard seeds in raspberry jam
Get stuck between canines and cuspids,
Tight as grout,
While bits of spinach,
Adhere with stealth
To an incisor,
And smiling seems to anyone near,
Like the gap of a missing tooth.
Not to render you so self-conscious
That you smile only into your hand,
Or race to a mirror after a meal,
To check on your presentability,
But avoiding chagrin,
You could eat mashed potatoes
And white chicken curry…
And not have to worry.
The sailboat careened
Off one moored boat, then another,
By chance heading into shallow harbor,
And more moored boats…
But not deep open water.
Using my lone nautical phrase.
Said the captain,
An urban, street-wise, two-week sailor.
Whadya think I’m tryna do, genius?
But with the sail still up,
A dark-sky wind blew us, atilt,
Toward a sharp-rock breakwater.
You tryna kill us, come about,
I shouted again.
A final gust blew us over,
A few feet only from the rocks.
Mast over keel,
The dark side bottomed up,
The embarrassed underbelly,
Unseen ’til now…
Like a dark family secret,
That was never supposed to see the light of day.
Floating on its side, we pulled the boat
To a nearby beach…
The captain now triumphant,
Since he saw the center board
Had somewhere gone missing.
Is the corned beef lean or fatty,
I asked the waiter.
Just the way you like it,
He said without pause.
Ever seen me before?
Never, he said.
Then how do you know how I like it?
I have, he said, a waiter’s intuition.
So how’s the corned beef gonna be?
Well, it’s gonna be slightly marbled,
So it’s not too dry,
But with all the fat trimmed around the edges.
Of course, that’s lean
And it’s a buck more.
But um, he said,
Kissing the tips of his fingers…
No seeds, right?
How’d you know?
I told you…waiter’s intuition.
A doctor knocked and breezed into the exam room,
Before I could respond, come in.
And how are we feeling today?
We, I assumed,
Was the accepted clinical reference
To a single patient.
We are fine,
And why are we here?
We are here to make sure,
We actually are fine.
Are we experiencing any problems?
None that we are aware of,
Then, please, can we
Remove our shirt,
So we can see how fine we are.
Measured, thumped and probed, he said
We do seem fine.
We are surely gratified,
But we should be seen again,
About six months hence.
We’ll make an appointment.
Zaviar’s friends (Zaviar with a ‘Z’)
Called him ‘Z’,
Or Zav (small ‘a’, like in lab).
Liking neither, he changed his name
Liking the sound of Cav for short.
It was, he knew, a minor pretention,
Like Diamond Jim or Goldy or Champ,
But one, he knew, his friends would get used to…
After all, they were his friends.
So he filed the papers, paid the fee,
And legally changed his name,
Then introduced himself as Cav.
But his friends, being perverse,
Called him Fish Eggs, instead.
So he changed his friends.
Hallways in school are for going to class…
And breaking up.
In high school she broke up with a boy
On the way to math.
But he wasn’t despondent,
As she hoped he’d be.
He just said okay,
And turned from her and walked away.
Not even a ‘why’,
Or a ‘what did I do’,
Or a ‘what can I do to get you back.
Ten years later she saw him again.
He admitted then with self-confident grace,
That day in school he turned from her,
He had tears in his eyes,
Since the gleeful ease of having a girl
Was all of a sudden snatched away.
I knew it, I knew it,
I knew it, she said,
Despairing for years,
That he didn’t care.
As I walked from you,
Carolyn Canfield winked at me,
So I knew right away, I’d be okay.
The ship of sleep
Left the dock,
And I wasn’t on it.
It gathered speed from harbor-slow
To open ocean,
As I exhausted myself, waving both arms,
Trying to get its attention and slow it down
To get aboard.
But it steamed to the horizon
And then disappeared.
Alert as a squirt of lemon juice,
Was left trying to reason myself to sleep.
The last two bites I always eat,
I well could do without…
Those last two bites at every meal,
And lean expands to stout.
Those plates with only two bites left,
Compulsively I’ll neaten,
Then think I really shouldn’t have
Just after they’ve been eaten.
She did reveal with blushing pride
A small role to her mom and dad,
She recent in a movie had.
My debut role, a lucky break,
To get my feet wet, so to speak…
Could you both come and take a peek?
Your film we took in, modest daughter,
And now with hosts of others viewed
You in the all-together, nude.
Companioned by a nude man, too.
My stepping stone to costumed part,
Just naked now for sake of art.
It’s more, though, than we needed see,
For nude and fondled somewhat lacks
The heft of parts in which one acts.
But now a cautionary tale,
Be discreet, when telling others,
So…not a word to your grandmothers.