Sunday, June 20, 2010
Vern. Vern Twist told me to do it. Make a list
he said. Write all the things you want in the
girl. Make sure you include sizes of things.
Have a look at her mother, she will be that
one day. What are your favorite foods?
Write that down. What you like to eat. Ask
her if she likes that stuff. Can she cook it?
Brown eyes. I would have never written that.
A laugh like a stranded seal. A worried look
when the word kitchen is mentioned.
Running my hands through your hair tonight,
last night, forever.
I am so glad I never listened to Vern.
c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010
death with interruptions
Shadows in a cave lengthen
an island unmoored drifts
at a red light a man rubs his eyes
in panic unbelief
Jesus tells the real story
while the stones of Lisbon
He climbs a ladder in the archive
hides a phone book [shaking
rain from his hat]
clay dolls harden
pebbles roll forward and settle
no wave will push them further
the sun is dimmed
all the words cannot tell it
c. Ciprianowords Inc. 2010
Friday, June 04, 2010
My nostrils flare at the scent of dead meat
roasted and ready resting in the cheapest
whitest bread known to human civilization.
Yours have other designs -- sensing sugar
and fun -- pink whims of a child on a paper
roll spun as though invented for you alone.
I let my stomach rumble as I watched you at
those superfluous strands of nothingness --
tearing off your cotton candy -- I fell in love.
c. Ciprianowords, Inc., 2010