3 Thoughts

1.
in the dusk
where the lamplight paces along the wall
i watch you through a spectral glass
with curly hair and heidi dimples
roving across the fields of memory
conjured by a future of uncertainty
and dimmed reality that so laments
ungrateful glances of masturbated moments.

where were you when the dog died?
is the sadness now in me
ever a by-product in your perfect image?

in the past
i would have loved
for you to know who i am.
and now
it reeks of registered regret.

2.
when the train pulls
into the station
and you are a little late
getting out of the seat
and onto the platform
i think of flamingoes
and picture you
standing one-legged
in your pantsuit
groping fish
from the brackish water.

3.
Dwell in the cloudy moment
of a rainstorm for just a second
and holding the newspaper
above your head, digest
the news as it run down
your hair. when you get
home, don't wash until
you believe all the words aren't
dirty.