Archive | POETRY RSS feed for this section

by Karen Robiscoe Smith

Dawn is

a jokester

always cracking up–

noon—who’s so high

and doesn’t get the joke

‘til after—

night falls, clumsy in the dark

rooms–the loo

–it’s a problem–

in witch hours?

the wee.

Mrs. Gecko


 
Liz was a brain

–and approachable

so approachable–

so hands-in everything

(that’s what I heard)

but Ma’am

was the opposite
 
 
–alien in her rigid

manner

for all she was brainy, too–

she dictated!

directing

via

internal GPS

–recalculating

forever recalculating–

routes she shoulda took the first time,

making her bluesprint

easy to discredit

a scandal for which alien Ma’am cried

alligator tears

yep, the real deal

–an arrangement of which only Ma’am alien emoted–

Liz all busy gettin’ busy

. . .

rollin’ eyes

droppin’ jeeZ,

and diggin’ in.

Her sheer carnality

irresistible.

 

 

Armor Some


 
I

can

and

did

drop my guard

and frankly,

the lack of mettle

looked the less

but my arms were

already broken

and I could not

reinvest

added visor

to abandoned

hell-met

to gird remaining

skin

(from the sun,

and all types of incidental whether) i

boiled on the inside…

Meta 5

If you want

to catch starfish,

it happens with purpose

–dolphin free, it’s

loosely netted

purpose

that’s part of the catch

bringing echinoderms

home–

sometimes

those spiny spangles

wash ashore, though

–buffeted by tide

and crowded out of

pools

a bothersome detail

since

crabs rarely

latch on,

the number 1 reason

pools always

merit

inspection

–when trawling

for 5 points.