Doors

Before the hare, before the hole,before the twisted dream,there was the door, its frame petite,its contents undisclosed. Was she deceived?Did she believe the world beyondwould match its portal’s size? Or was it hopethat made her drink,despite the waistcoat, watch,and steep descent?A rabbit’s warning cry? Too late, I fear, too late. How soon until we wake? … More Doors

Things Immaterial

I found a moth on my kitchen window, climbing up the screen. It was a large moth, close to an inch, I think— I didn’t measure, and it seemed confused by endless mesh beneath its legs, its feet— fragile, if moths have them, I didn’t check— and morning’s heat, the lack of exits, how it … More Things Immaterial

Provenance

His car belonged to a Nazi. Not a would be, Or wannabe, Or could have been, Or clone, But a Nazi high in rank, A name you’d know, And I forgot The minute he smiled and said it. He keeps it under wraps in his garage To shield it from harsh winters, Hungry salt; But … More Provenance