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Après L’Amour

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You’ve already left for work when I awake, embracing the empty air and breathing in your dimestore perfume that everyone mistakes for French. “Apres l’amour” sings Aznavour the tousled sheets still bear the imprint of our bodies. I can still Read more ›

Engagement Poem

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The burly stationmaster Wiped his brow, Gazed at his pocket watch And cried out “All aboard” We were off. I couldn’t promise you A land where Clocks spun backwards And the old never wrinkled. I could only invite you to Read more ›

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Sweet Things

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What he loved most of all Were sweet things, Blueberry jelly Bursting from the doughnut And dribbling down his chin, Ice cream spotting his nose As he licked the cone, Chocolate icing Shaved from a cake In the middle of Read more ›