Short Slackening Poems

I know that you’ll pretend to be asleep 
to sip and slurp the darkness in my eyes.  
While steely train-tracks slide and jump and weep
in your sick, slick, and slackening July,
my amtrak seat stays sticking to my thighs...

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FLYING   FREE



Strings hold it tight;
Wind lifts it out of sight.
Without both,  kite cannot fly  -
Nor orchestrate the silent sky.

A son stretches away
From parents’ song and what they say:
He’s straying from the fold  -
They’re slackening their staying hold....

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I felt a painful blain, during the feverish slackening of repeating rain
The pain far worse than a usual swell, reminds me how it rains in hell
If the drops could not perish from their comfort zone, my wound would want to make a moan

More than a red mark; as the rain continues, I felt my wound hit by a spark
The pain goes on like a wheel cart, only stopped when it loses its spiel
I wished the hectic drops would retreat, one step to become a memorable defeat...

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