You, perceptive enough to pick up
all the half-rhymes hanging out in your stomach;
you, with a galvanized ear leading to tubules
that course straight up into your brain;
you, possessing databanks built out of flesh
humming in data process heaven just behind your bone walls;
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This was written last month, but I thought it fit in with the “Through A Window” prompt on One Single Impression. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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the girl squirms around in the back seat of
her daddy’s eighty-six taurus to watch out of
the back windshield disappearing palm trees
and green leaves, verdant dots and dashes
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Red rocks stand in regiment lines
Against God’s painted skies;
For desert beauty my mind’s eye pines,
For canyons wrinkled like the wise
And grand rouge stands in childhood eyes.
His paintbrush dances on rocky faces -
I yearn for those exquisite places.
“I found a clue,” he’d say as he
Would pick up yet another object and
Inspect it under his magnifying glass
With the canary yellow handle.
