One Last Game

How can I play
with you crying?
You make me cry
one last game
and then I must go
You play so slow
I throw it all away


~ ~ ~


The Captain

Every day the old boy got to the beach
and fiddled with paint on his boat

I knew he was killing time
What else was there to do

One morning
the boat was gone


~ ~ ~


Octave

Water wipes my lungs
holds air in knots
turns the foul taste into wine
burns me
racks this twist

I held the rails until my arms bled
clamped in stocks
turned in stone




~ ~ ~




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