Soft Edges

Sound waves
make the air tremble…
Tumble in a soliloquy
leather tongue rasps
over the course
emissions of soma cravings.

Ebb and flow of a natural state
chains turn to strands
neither bind nor constrict.

In the darkness
the world spirals
into a smoky realm.
Words are wrapped
in soft harmonies

Reaching the ocean
seashells ration out
watery secrets
Not identity, essence.

Northbound

Fast paced steel careening
through dark tunnels
we forget we are carved
from the earth.

He carries three table
legs on the subway car.
Is there a table at home
balanced on one leg waiting
for the rest to arrive?

A young woman wearing indigo
stockings leans against an iron
column flamingo-like.

An older woman is a crimson
rose whose bloom has started
to fade. Her edges are curling
outward into a black silent fury.

He wears his suit in a careless way
the creases have long been pressed
in as he skims his New Yorker magazine.

The train jostles us on our journey
forward…into the darkness, north-
bound. She slumbers
against the wall, her lids flutter
with purple eye shadow as
she rests her eyes in a delicious nap.

Paper Thin

A young man walks
the path in a slanted way
His broken body folds
into a near collapse.

A body trembles
in fragmented beats
when paper-thin
slices of emotions
wash over her

A horse’s mane must be reigned in
with tight braids that won’t unravel.

Mami tried to save me
from my creative life
only to find a reply,
written in verse, in
the palms of her hands.

It’s a Portishead kind of moment
a low throbbing bass line
with a high thin voice singing
contrast to shelve the freeze-dried mind.