*Featured picture is a self-portrait from 2004.
The wet dog
Shakes off his frustrations.
Back and forth…back and forth.
Pigeon, pigeon, pigeon, potato.
Dead bird sticking to the pavement:
How long have your eggs been cold?
I cannot hear the silence.
Diamonds in the tiles; gnomes in the bricks;
Patterns in the weave of my skin.
Meow! Arrf? Mooooo!!
To this, I relate.
There is no such thing as an appropriate time to dance.
So just dance.
Caution: bumble bee.
Like lovers, I complete the sentences in his adoring eyes:
My dog and I.
The disgusting swirl
Of a coffee tongue.
One day, I imagine Spock will return for his things.
Until then, the uniform is mine.
Anna kissed an anarchist;
Anne drew Andrew.
I love you,
But please don’t touch me.