Short Shoestrings Poems

the balcony

a bird tugs at my

clean shoestrings...

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their eyes 
they flutter
or is it propel
either way
a subtle prelude
to a kiss out of sync

their conversation
an amalgamation
of giggles and smiles 
more telepathy 
between hearts
than anything else

their legs 
entwined like shoestrings 
on a pair of old sneakers
seem to imply 
the mating ritual 
of hoverflies...

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-brooding centrifical, delirium flight
spiraling downward toward bruising the night
bouncing on sky skin with trampoline hair
shooting like rocket dust into the air
dipping each strand in the hottest of stars
gold tipped and fragrant in Jupiter shards
crushing the bones in the feet of desire
snapping back shoestrings of love ever higher-...

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If kidnappers grab me, I will kick out their tail lights
Put my hand out and wave to other drivers on the freeway
If this does not work, I will kick the trunk until it pops open
I will wave down the police 
If the kidnappers stop and chase me
I will lie on the ground and hold onto the grass
If that does not work, I will tie their shoestrings together...

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They flock in groups of three
and feast on shattered molecules.
They nag at your shoestrings,
waiting
for the moment you become vulnerable.
They will gnaw at your pulsating membranes,
leave a mangled carcass,
and consider their next victim.
They thrive between the living and the dead,
unsure of which path to pursue,
and as their claws rot and
their follicles disintegrate,
they will regret every moment
of their cancerous lives....

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