Poetry Warning: IV

Pretty Bad

We stopped down by the bridge
and looked at the space where they used to be.

I remembered I saw a piece of trash fall, but not like trash.
Straight down, turning slowly, and then there was a leg
with a skirt flapping,
the skin of the back of my neck tightened,
and she disappeared behind something.

It was pretty bad, must have been bad
for people to decide better to leave than to stay.

Poetry Warning III

I lay in bed and watched the ceiling fan turn
Hot with happiness. Smiling with my good fortune.
But you were angry
It was not what you wanted.

When I touched your hand
You longed to leave
When I touched your thigh
You did not feel tenderness

I was alive with love and good feeling and caring.
but your feelings were different.
And for a long time
I didn’t know that.

Poetry Warning II

Sphere of Competence

When I said I could fix things
I meant I'd fix the squeek in the door
the light in the refigerator
the car battery
the filter in the fish tank
the boy's bicycles.
and the leak in the bathroom sink faucet.

I didn't mean that I could fix that feeling you got
When I didn't smile at you
I didn't hold you
I didn't hear you
and didn't look up at you when you came in.

Poetry Warning: I

Poetry Warning I

A Bullet Works in This Way

The bullet, a slug of copper coated lead,
is affixed atop a cartidge containing powder,
and at the bottom is the primer
all fitting snugly in a chamber, locked by a bolt.

The firing pin strikes the primer
causing primer powder to flash into the cartridge
where powder is ignited
pushes the bullet down the barrel
that gives the bullet a spin
making it fly straight through the air
until it strikes
it tears through
expanding, tumbling, fragmenting
and momentum is expended
within the targeted object
whatever that may be.