“Knotted”

Twist a knot in the story,
and cast the length away,
feeling the distance disappear
in moments of passing tale.

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“Bookshelf”

the titles reached up high,
the mountains of fantasy
dominating the upper reaches
in long stretches of hard-to-say
names and strange england-like
lands, then came the crime
in black-and-white city streets
and men with eyes too haggard,
then bright-souled coming of age
novels, asking for optimism and love.

at the bottom sat the poems
tucked into notebooks.

“Remnant”

we have thoughts
piled on desks
scratched onto receipts
or scraps of paper
stolen from books

the world’ll go
catatonic one day,
and all that’ll be left
are post-it notes
on computer screens

poems in margins
lists on counter tops
novels in cd cases
haiku on roofs,
loveletters on shoulders.