Catching Some Rays
Is it the dark encroaching? Or the light? All appetite is dynamic: the swing between craving and revulsion. Else enough would never be enough. We’d perish indulging our very first desire.
Do Without Words
. . . a cringe or a blush says it all . . .
Ancient Kouros
It is in the Museum of Impostures in Upper Sandusky, Ohio
Dream
Dreams detain their personnel at that strait gate to the undreamed place.
Surrender
If you remember something, how acquiesce in the demand that you don’t?
And if you don’t, in the gospel that you do?
Dance of the Unruly Pullover
If you truly want to be happy (rather than obstinately unhappy), then let your true friends make the important decisions for you: whether concerning wardrobe or wife.
First Light
Will this be the day receiving’s more blessed than giving?
Rapunzel
From your high keep, survey the expanse that’s all your world and not at all your world.
Dancing blind
Most of the time, in most circumstances, the soul cringes outside the body like someone whose house is unfit for habitation. But sometimes when we dance it takes up proper residence. And if we dance blind, it even feels at home.
Attraction, Aversion
As individuals we never really encounter ourselves – not the way others encounter us. So are self portraits the attempt to encounter oneself? Is that the goal of self-portraiture?
Duende
I often lunch at a place where one entire wall is an old fresco, decayed beyond ken. I think I see demons. But the legend beneath is still legible. It says: “Most people prefer to be right than to be happy.”
Guy with Paste Earring
. . . or it could be called: “The Sunny Side of the Street”. Get your tote and your jock strap . . .
Bearing Witness
There’s so little meaning in the world compared to what there might be. You feel this most strongly after visiting some storybook place. There everything means – and not just incidentally.
Euclid
He seldom had recourse to lines in the sand. Nor even to the chalkboard. Rather, elucidated his theorems by aptly composing his limbs.
Frustration
Why against bad taste is Cap’n Crunch not proof? Nor vinyl siding against vampires?
I Can Be a Girl for You
You see past my gruff exterior, to the shy lass who is my true self . . .
I Survived Patricia
. . . only to face Donald Trump and the other GOP blowhards . . .
Inner Ear
Every sense has a sibling in the soul.
Macho Delicado
Sooner or later you told me everything. Even confessed those wiles you used at my expense. No malice intended, you said. Simply to cull my options, herd them toward your need. Your awful need.
Modesty
Before the Fall you could go naked to Dunkin’ Donuts (or anywhere), and no one would bat an eye!
Plaintiff / Defendant - the eternal duality
It’s how we humans relate. Get the sense of one another.
Camarero
I’m always punctual. One of those things an ordinary person can excel at. Get a little esteem for.
Reverie
Slip out of our separate presents, meet in a shared past . . .
Six
The number of lovers you’ve betrayed?
What If No Sofa Ever Fit through a Door
. . . down any hall, into any living room. Always too bulky on site, though you carefully measured ahead . . .
The World as Meditation
Light is more luminous that comes from within . . .
Stingray
“I wouldn’t mind,” someone’s saying, “if he cropped off the genitals in more of his shots. I’m a fan of nudes – female for the most part – and he has a decent figure, but I find the male genitals distracting—to the point of annoyance. That’s the best I can explain it. I mean this more as a compliment than anything.”
I object to the nose, to naked noses. The harder you look at a nose the more incongruous it becomes.
You’ve cropped yours away as well.
It’s odd how the little that’s left is pleasing. A matter, I guess, of knowing when to stop.
Longing
. . . the cold burn, the dark glow of unfulfillment . . .
The World as Meditation
Light is more luminous that comes from within . . .
Wife-beater Exposed
False confession. You should reconsider – the title, I mean. But nowadays abuse is the “new civility”, everyone up to some form of it or other. And however: if confessing’s what you’ve resolved to do, isn’t true confession a richer vein to mine?
Light, after longest night
. . . yet Groundhog Day is still so far away . . .
