Spa Talk

a woman came in today
who uses professional shampoo
sometimes you can tell these things
you know?

she ordered a cup of coffee
room for milk? no thank you
nose was high in the air, though.
her fingernails shone

I wonder if she uses the gel that I do
caulking for your cuticles
that dries into jello
and stops you from ruining your life.

probably not, eh?

My Little Deli Chicken

I don’t know
if I’m comin’ or goin’
you say to me
feet up
long neck on the couch
picking meat off a deli chicken’s tired bones
7.99 at Costco

It never knew, either
I think.
It scratched a cage floor
and couldn’t see the light
but I just sip.
Talk of cannibalism is not welcome
in this happy home.


they say that you don’t sleep
they say your eyes are only open
I wonder if it’s true
and if it is
I wonder how they knew

I think of asking questions
what’s your bedtime
what your thread count is
tell me your favourite midnight snack
oh really
well now fancy that

and how are you with planes and trains
are jet lag symptoms visible
prefer your pillows thick or thin?
prefer which edge
outside or in?

I think of asking everything
around the thing I want to know
and make up answers for you
in my head
that’s how it always goes.


this peach can
smells like fish
its innards though
are sweet
are deep are cold
invite me in
I enter, glad
omega 3s
run up my nose

they slither
sleek and slick
slack jawed
down unexpected
we can forget
when what we gain
drips down our chins
in such a way

Old Brown

the kids next door play
rainy night baseball
while nan soaks her teeth in brandy and
complains about the brats of today

the air sparkles and shimmers
whip crack kablam
I’d like to see you run that diamond

Rubber Soul

something’s changed, you told me
and you know
I think you’re right
I couldn’t see before
but then again
then I could fight

I’d roam the streets
and look at fleets
of children with their tiny feets
that lay down beats
on sidewalks
and back then I’d muster smiles

I’d turn and face my days
instead of hiding
under piles of sleet
and crumpled sheets
made of concrete
that only gods could budge

something’s changed, you told me
is it in the rubber
of our souls?
every step’s a step to death
but now
now I can feel it


you never told me
when you met me
that you planned on settling
on building lives
and houses
on making me your wife

I walked on sandy shoulders
while you combed the beach
then combed my hair
you’d dance and sing
skip stones for me
avoid talking of life

but days ran past
they splashed through waves
played hide and seek with months
with years
we never paid them mind
but they paid visits
they stopped by

and now you ask
why I seem blue
ask why I wander down the shore
while you barbecue with college friends
all settled down with kids

a dog a cat a parakeet
a treehouse on a flat green lawn
a picket fence
to keep out dreams
(both good and bad
it seems)