Gremlin

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

there is an elec­tri­cal
grem­lin in my car
I turn the key and a cough laugh gasps
di­als wild clock re­sets
stranded in mid-Ohio
my son asks “are we there yet?“
I tell him “some­times it’s
okay to be lost.”

(9 line poem writ­ten in 9 min­utes at SPIT open mic)

Metrognome

Thursday, 8 December 2011

of hands paus­ing
hov­er­ing above]
the tips of fin­gers
the arch and whorl
pad cal­lus cap­il­lar­ian beat­ing]
the en­com­pass­ing round palms
hoard­ing of sound]
of wooden boards planed for
res­o­nance, wires taut and twisted
too wound about to quiver]
the or­dered rank of keys
as yet un­played]
every
knuckle 
an­gle 
pre­cise]

an 
ex]
ha­la­tion