flax seed bread lightly toasted, with
piri piri chicken, warm
with flavor, then mixed with onion of fine dice
to the mixture, dont forget
dijon, and leaf of green lettuce crisp
milk plus chocolate
this will be good
stir into the world of internet
digital screen white keyboard
usb external hard-drive sits on my desk - bored
not sure why a zip-lock bag full of raw almonds
leans on his chords.
bending them out of shape
or why the plate didnt catch all the flaxseeds
crowding his space.
independent mr. cell phone winks at my wrist watch
waiting for a response.
i sit back and watch writing poetry at my desk.
Onion skin pages and empty windows
Repel us as much as attract—
Possess brief images locked fast in place—
Memory melded in faded photographs of thought.
We are things we once were—
Frozen kaleidoscopes of dreams
Cupping eyes and pens so tightly,
Casting free flaxseeds of imagination.
Still, sepia leaves seem white-boned
And open windows let in absences.
Onion skin pages and empty windows
Repel us as much as attract—
Possess brief images locked fast in place—
Memory melded in faded photographs of thought.
We are things we once were—
Frozen kaleidoscopes of dreams
Cupping eyes and pens so tightly,
Casting free flaxseeds of imagination.
Still, sepia leaves seem white-boned
And open windows let in absences.
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