All that is misery now
Was joy yesterday
All this suffering is new
It balls up like yarn
The harp melody has ceased
In trade for all sin
That will turn precious coral
Into Satan’s silt
What Someone Thinks
Creatures
Tall, slimy, with the bodies of eels
and beady eyes
sunken into their faces
and lips so pursed
only steel claws could pull them apart
They creep into books,
poems, magazines
and sprawl across billboards
and television screens
Whenever I see them,
I wilt a little
and I get even tinier
because I know
I’ll never see myself
in their place
Like Snow
My cat is like snow
soft
and cold
landing with grace from above
and onto the ground
below