Monday, June 11, 2007


This morning, I dream of swimming
through the bowl of red jello
you made this week, my arms and legs

pushing through the thick goop
with no more struggle than the spoon
you wielded that night, as I sliced onions

over the sink and you told me nothing
of your jury duty, of your days
spent in endless testimony,

the way it drains you to say
the word convict, the way
it's just as bad as scott free,

and as I rinse red globs of it
from my memories, I wonder
if tonight we'll remember

at last to eat the strawberry
cool of it, with a dollop of cream,
over a crossword puzzle, before

you take me to bed, both of us
ripe with the summer heat
and hungry still for each other.


Tinamtl said...


Very very interesting poem!!!

Tracie Lyn Huskamp said...

Love your poetry... your use of images to lead me to a completely different place.


gautami tripathy said...

sensuous and hot!

Abzdragon said...

Wow. The images were vivid definitely. Your poetry always moves me.

Abzdragon said...

Hey, I would like to interview you about your poetry for my Blogathon blog. If you are interested please comment on my blog with your email and I will send you the form. Thank you!! :)