Poems

a ghoul in a swan boat ride, a public park

even if after darkness I begin and all is ink

some say or some might say my fingers are the keys of mystery

as I undo the chains that keeps the swan boats tied together against the dock.

am I hurricane fences or like the phantom in the rain on the night of June

eleventh? are there song birds for these occasions?

are there park rangers who are savvy and leave well enough alone while I take the swan boat out dancing I alone can stand up in a swan boat and not fall over.

I was killed by a bumble bee in this swan boat. I am the haunted swan boat. everything you see about you

I am killed by it I die of the boathouse

the poison concession stand

my father’s ill brain conceived to force my hand into the hot dog rotator all the arm of me was flattened there

forcing the blood back into my bursting heart!

I am dogs freed from their leashes and rampant

As a babe an acorn fell and crushed me through my soft spot

I am every drunk drowned in a puddle of water

and only I can stand up on the back of him.

lies. I am only a ghoul. blouah. and barely that

I take the swan boat out for water therapy for relaxation.

after a long day of cooking and eating spaghetti

I reach for the swan boat. silly me

and daring I show up in broad daylight

in the swan boat beside you. blouah. you

didn’t even notice nodding and I scrape the zinc off of your nose.