Cinquainfull and unrepetant

Posted on August 13, 2003 in Poems

12

Voters

feel weakly

elated about the

Terminator. Arnold let’s them

not think.

13

Alders

spice Holy Jim

Creek with their tiny cones.

Flies feast on warmed meat still hung to

our bones.

14
Eyes up,
drilling through her
forehead. “Life is so dumb.
Why is that graybeard goof staring
at me?

15
Who owns
the artist? Can
we cash Beauty? Invest
in Wisdom? Does Integrity take
a check?

16
Naked
to the shoulders
you clop about, threading
your needle through my eye’s bended
corner.