exposed from under the sheets
underclothes and socks
the chill of the morning
the smell of bacon
not likely
a cup of coffee
absolutely
goes down the frozen pipes
hopefully
into the appendages
the major arteries and rural pathways
to fingertips and toes
the nose usually remains
cold
10/19/2022
Categories:
underclothes, weather, winter,
Form: Free verse
arched mirror on the cold stone,
blackglorious dress,
Xoloitzcuintlis at heel.
quiet reflection,
forfeiting Frida’s apparition
beneath her underclothes.
her fate was switched
from doctor to artist
painfully so
she’s pretty with eyes closed,
heavy-petaled headgear.
Diego paints ash on canvas,
surrealist unibrow lifts —
Frida’s suffering relinquished.
10/25/2020
Categories:
underclothes, art, pain,
Form: Free verse
A poodle lives like a shadow.
It is not ill-treated, just ignored,
so it moves from room to room
but stays away from her couch.
The place is littered with her underclothes,
discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee.
I had no idea
why these things all came to rest here
scattered around her like that.
To me, she seemed to rule them all;
displaying them
as a kind of sovereign insignia.
I was an occasional pal of her son.
Once she fed a newborn from her own white flesh.
The soft upholstery seemed to settle around her,
closing its wide mouth about them both,
including all the discarded clothing.
The poodle wandered away,
perhaps sensing it would could never be
part of her regalia.
Categories:
underclothes, poetry,
Form: Blank verse