Category: fantasty

• Dreaming of Tuesday’s Parties

  Dreaming of Tuesday’s

  parties, glorious rippling

  colors, all manner of

  food and gaiety, strangers with

  strange stories, big ridiculous hats,

  cacophony of singing,

  and drunkenness, lots of it

  spinning, hours disappearing

  under the weight of the night

  and slow dancing whispers,

  all versions of us

  unwilling to believe in a

  dawning Wednesday.

  May 1, 2020

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• i am Nabokov’s butterfly

  paper thin wings grow in fantastic colors
  behind my shoulder blades.
  eye spots deepen on the tops of each
  and wink when i fly.

  settling quietly on a leaf in a forest in old Russia

  there is a sudden net upon me,
  Nabokov! oh how he
  drains my life, pins down my wings …
  and with quiet precision,
  i am immortal.

  March 4, 2013

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