Eyes are the windows to the soul

ergo Windows is too,

at the very least

the Super Ego

–think of all those pithy news stories

you’ve posted

(and only skimmed)
 
 
those fundraisers

you’ve shared

(without donating)

and petitions

you’ve signed

with a self-righteous comment

or two,

the Ego deleting that initial damning remark

calling for blood

since you never know who might see it

(just that someone will)

and you might actually know that someone

(or be employed by that someone)

best only Google

be the spyglass

to your Id…

tho social media lays waste to that

social media and the

intoxicating anonymity

of a keyboard punched alone

as you load yourself

with round after round

of tequila shot

(duck shot if you’re suicidal)

a weaponry

sticks and stones

you only account for

may break my bones

at supermarket

and names can never hurt me

–the one you enter

masked.

—

Summer’s summer

alla time

and Winter’s winter, too,

but just before

those days that bore

are seasons moving through. . .

We Jump

and Tumble

into them–

Just spring and fall

carefree,

when blooms burst forth

and leaves change course

the trees act differently. . .

They’re not just shade

–they’re time, renewed–

still more than brilliant foliage

they’re mothers proud

and branches loud

in lee that boasts collage

And meadows, too

host flowers, you

might posie-pick and gift,

mementos saved

in pages, they

perfume the leaves you sift

Yes celebrate

these fleeting days

that border

sun and snow

too soon they pass

and lost contrast

of going back to grow.

when devising incantations

it’s important to

use a

magic marker

–as scribbling from an ordinary ballpoint

can be a bic’

and mistaken for “to-do’s”

instead of “ta-da’s!”

it’s also advisable

to opt for

pixie stix

over

Koolaid

–when concocting transformative potions

lacking red dye #5

and marauding mascots,

they’re a hundred percent less deadly and

empirically more effective,

–if a trifle time-consuming

in the making

(of any significant quantity)

it’s best, too,

to mix

black from

every color perceptible

(all 96 Crayolas)

–if dabbling in those arts

allowing for infinite shades

of grey

to out

–in the event only part

of your charm comes across. . .

and let’s not forget

the importance

of pulling purely genuine

rabbits from stovepipes

–when such occasions arise–

avoiding accidental boiling,

it’s better for the bunny,

& ensures

your own coif remains intact

–that any hares loosed

are lepus

in genus, not sapien.

Finally

balls.

crystal balls.

an IRL bane

–easily broken when bluffing–

they are boon to

second site, however

–the site

Google would list just

down from the top

if Google

precognized

in pursuit

of prey.

I listen to your smile

–hear it Doppler in the void—

touching your pain

–almost ruefully

–almost tenderly

funny bone pulsing high Q

I see your teeth

(polished w grit)

yell: oW!

(and at length)

I smell your doubt,

too–

in gulp

after

gulp–

the scent of you

indiscernible

–in all these carved

pathways

–annihilating

my memory.

Mega-stitious,

I

never tallied

1 + 12,

counting crossed fingers by

2’s in lieu,

eschewing

Escher ladders

I

knocked on rungs

instead

–which clatter went

ignored by opportunity

and kept my collar blue–

I

refused to look at

any cat

near dawn or dusk lest shadow

cross my path,

I

saved primping

for those hours, too

when distant windows best reflected

worst,

and even when it rained inside

(which happened all last year)

my umbrellas stayed in stand

–all 3 of them–

the exact same number of

feet remaining to

an unfortunate cottontail,

coincidentally enough.