Short Mortise Poems

I see no evil in the
 Mortise and tenon and in the thin 
Red line Mao traced in a
 Thousand or more 
Platitudes still
Posing deftly in old 
Wuhan. 

 Just a while ago I did glimpse a 
Twinkle in the
 Delicate curl of a child’s 
Lip and in the
Tender.

 Millions of centimeters away the French, in 
Perfect nonchalance, 
Pause, as stock markets
 Nip and tuck to 
Languid sips of cool cool 
Wine.

-Jeff Troyer 
April 2020...

Read More

A lonely yellow butterfly flits along a crisp fall breeze as other life forms seek out a warm refuge from the approaching night's freeze. Rigor mortise leaves lie shapeless in corpse patterns on my uncut late autumn lawn like soldiers lost in battle, all helpless to the coming elements of an Ohio winter. Naked trees reveal a last nest or two swaying in the breeze like abandoned tiny tenements quietly awaiting Mothers next season of rentals....

Read More