A few poems I've published recently. Funny, a bunch of them seem to involve animals!
Mantis
A green stick on a stalk, he waits
alien head swivels - hesitates -
eyes set wide as a hammerhead shark's
fix, unseen, on fluttering marks -
soundless snap of slender tongs
the mantis feasts! Blends back,
belongs.
as published in the San Diego Poetry Annual 2019
The Night-Shark
stirs in its kelp bed
moonlight gleaming on its gills
then slides,
a one-fish waterfall,
into the shallows
of the hall
where the water’s cool and quiet
and as dark as fresh squid ink;
the only sound,
of soft-tipped fins,
carving through the
murky, midnight drink,
​
as the creature advances,
a sub at full sail,
building bubbles and speed
with each switch of its tail;
flipping salmon and sand-dollars,
still deep in dreams;
slicing thick schools of fish into
right and left streams –
​
the night-shark leaps!
A spectacular sight:
it crests,
twists suspended,
in frothy starlight;
grins a familiar,
faint crescent-toothed grin,
eyes the soft reef of my bed,
and dives in.
to be published in the Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Vol. 4, 2023
Beware: Wild Animal Sleeping!
By day, she’s a quiet,
polite kind of child,
but beware: when night falls,
the kid goes hog-wild,
and as soon as she’s sleeping
she tosses and kicks
like a grumpy old donkey
with nasty new tricks,
or a slurpy swamp creature
who mutters and mumbles
then roars like a jaguar,
a queen of the jungle;
then jabs out with elbows
and bashes with knees
as she swings through the bed
like a monkey through trees!
​
She snuffles and drools
like a crazed armadillo –
like the absolute last thing
you’d want near your pillow –
then she wraps herself 'round you,
a strong silly snake,
which starts out quite charming –
till it’s too much to take...
...and then, in the morning,
the creature awakes
stretches cute as a kitten,
gives her lamb’s-tail some shakes,
yawns out a sweet little yawn,
maybe two, and says
"I slept great, Mom –
how about you?”
to be published in San Diego Poetry Annual, 2023
Where Did All The Towels Go?
On Sunday, I washed towels,
washed them clean as pure white snow.
By Thursday, they had melted away –
where did all the towels go?
I swear, I stacked a dozen right there!
Hung two or three more, down below.
Did they fly off, like terry-cloth ghosts?
Where did all the towels go?
I finish my shower. I’m dripping and cold,
I reach for a warm, dry towel... oh no.
You can imagine, just how hard I hollered:
WHERE DID ALL THE TOWELS GO?
This poem hasn't been published yet... it's the title poem of the kid- and family-inspired chapbook I've been working on! This poem is truly non-fiction:"WHERE DID ALL THE TOWELS GO?!?!?!" is a frequent holler in this busy house of five.