Three Poems
We are all connected, one unto another.
A bulb in my hallway has burned out. I keep fitting new bulbs into the socket. Nothing happens.
We are all connected, one unto another.
A bulb in my hallway has burned out. I keep fitting new bulbs into the socket. Nothing happens.
Good old Patrick Casey!
She’d gotten into the habit of going nights
to a secret ledge on the apartment house roof
Someone has brought potato salad and someone else has brought cole slaw.
I smear my lips with lipstick, my cheeks with rouge