Champagne on an empty stomach

bubbles burst
desire to write;
soft mattress
calls to rest a
sluggish mind.

The Disappearing Slice

M and M made a pie
and delivered a large slice
to my door,
rhubarb pie, my favorite,
with the most luscious crust,
the filling spilling gently from
the sides.
problem was that it was
for both of us and S was
not there.
i ate my half.
he didn’t know how
big the slice was, how could
he know that he was getting
way less than half.
i wanted more and the
slice became thinner and
thinner
i knew he would appreciate it
since he has a sweet tooth
but wants to lose a few pounds.
i ate the tip of the last slice
and wondered if it might be best
to eat the whole thing and just
not tell him that we got the
pie at all.
i sat down to think about
that for awhile and the pie
disappeared.

it sure was good.

three boyfriends

three old boyfriends were born
on September 6;
the probability of three on any
one date is about one in a
million.
after the last one, i decided
the third was not a charm;
i asked any potential
boyfriend what his birthdate
was.
may is far enough away from
september, so i am
happy.
.
Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/marine_b/3848541771/
(This photo is available for copy as long as credit is given.)

inevitably, someone will give me the exact probability of three boyfriends being born on the
same date. just for clarity before i get deluged with messages, i'm assuming that the first one can be born on any date and that the probability has to do with two subsequent boyfriends being born on that particular date, so probability will only be 1/(365)^2. if you disagree, please correct me. ; )

Stealing

at a party tonight
i asked a photographer
if i was stealing by lifting
photos from flickr for my blog.
he said yes.
i added that i always posted the
link.
he said, yes, you are stealing.
i said i didn’t know how to
do it any other way, i don't see
how it is possible to pay,
he said i was stealing.
tonight i won’t post
a photo, i won't steal,
i will go to sleep in my bed
feeling like a thief.
it doesn’t feel very good.

Vive la langue française!

ma petite m’a finalement parlé
dans la langue que j’aime le mieux,
la langue de mes parentés,
du vin, du pain et du fromage.
elle me disait seulement « Je m’appelle Karen »
et « Bon jour ! » , mais elle m’a promis
qu’elle continuerai a étudier et
de me parler des grandes choses.

Signs I: Never Leave Baby Unattended

they would
never have known
without the sign.

photo courtesy of : http://www.flickr.com/photos/shauna/3836506779/in/pool-stickfiguresinperil

The Orchestrator

he stands behind the curtain
unseen, directing all the
dialogue, each dance step,
the songs they sing,
each scene unfolds in a
pefect sequence which makes
no sense, conversations which
no one understands, even
himself.