picking a poem

pick a poem
to practice upon a podium
in front of a pack of poets,
oh panic, please prevent me
from fainting on the parquet,
paramedics are not generally
poets.

surprisingly, he's not the ultimate slacker

the therapist asked if I could say it in a
way a little less negative but I said it was
already super positive that he went shopping
and took out the compost and I was so pleased
after all I hate all housework and I'm bad
at it so he can pick up the slack and the
cooking, shopping, the recycling, sweeping,
making breakfast, but he does a terrible job
wiping the counter
it was all so positive that he's not the ultimate
slacker, how else would I say that instead
I am the slacker.

It's Too Cold

I like it between 79.5 and 85 plus or minus a couple degrees
depending on the height and direction of the sun, or lack thereof
when the rain is pouring from the sky, my raincoat feels chilly
and kind of gross against my skin below 79 degrees, oppressive
over 85 and so I'm always too hot in summer and too cold the
other months of the year like now as a breeze blows in from
a darkening afternoon, ominous clouds lingering above
even my sweatshirt is not enough to ward off the impending
sense of upcoming cold afternoons.

but do you like bacon?

we had not seen each other in years
during which divorce, break-ups, deaths, unemployment,
empty nests; they all happened as each day rolled
by, another meal, another recipe, maybe another disaster,
maybe a joy, we hoped to see each other again
over food, real food, not the Boulder no-bread,
no-cheese, non-gluten, but rather the do-I-like-bacon kind
of food over anything that works, over cabbage
where the bacon grease drips and soaks into it
roasting for an hour or so while we drink mint
mojitos and sautee potatoes and catch up.

the poem she doesn't remember

he read the poem out loud
and she listened carefully
wondering what this favorite poem was
of this person she didn't know all that well
the poem would reveal it
even though he read it for her
and she wrote it for him
to read to her

the dress on pearl street

a slit up to her
gaze can't keep off her
whether man or woman
as she stood by the bike
left hip out slit wide open
high platform heels
so all could see

Dental floss

dental floss and toothpicks,
toothpaste and mirrors,
how else would you know
when the hygienist and the dentist
gaze deep within you and
see if you have been good
or not at bedtime, in the morning,
after you eat lunch.
one would never dare eat corn
if dental floss did not exist,
what a shame for the caveman
and the beautiful French woman
who forgot hers.