new! - "boiling emotion" search story

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the search for life's meaning can take many shapes - in this case, it's a ring.

Falling off a bike

happens in a vacuum —
launching forward
through soundless space,
head then feet then helmet
then head then feet

limp body
looping like a bagel,
silent gasp trailing from
gaping mouth

float
float
float
then fall

sound returns
with a punch to the lungs,
a patch of angry gravel,
and a fresh-baked batch
of bloody onion bruises

17

08 2009

season premieres

deserve a darkened
room,
a comfortable chair,
and an audience that adheres
to a strict
no-talking policy;

the last of which
comes easier
(of course)
when onion bagels are served

16

08 2009

old racist bagel

damn those dark and dirty wheats
they’re rotten to the core,
and damn those queer blueberry fruits
what’d they move here for?
damn likewise all the cinnamons
they’re lazy and they’re cheap,
those spineless eggs could damn themselves
if they weren’t such yellow sheep,
and damn those onions most of all
with their pungent ethnic smell,
there’s no place left for plains these days
— this bakery’s gone to hell

15

08 2009

’80s Bagel

Feathered onion bangs
Wrapped in a neon napkin
Beeper clipped to crust

14

08 2009

Four

For four years now my bagel’s been the best I’ve ever had,
She’s nourished me through sick and health, through times both good and bad

Sometimes her skin gets toasty brown, but usually it’s pale,
It’s soft and smooth and appetizing, anything but stale

Her onions can be spicy, and they also can be sweet,
But any way you slice them, they’re the kind I like to eat

Our past four years have flown by faster than a toaster’s ding,
Still I can’t wait to get a taste of what our next ones bring




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13

08 2009

Tanka #2

It’s done nothing wrong
(except for smelling strongly)
But is that worth death?
Hunger pangs growl Barrabas!
Can I wash my knife of this?

12

08 2009

PDA

Twelve-year-old tongue kissers
touching tonsils on the bus
Smacking like a gum-chewing waitress
Slurping like they’re sucking onions
through bagel holes

Making me wanna change my seat

11

08 2009

an eye, an ear

you, my toasty canvas
both medium, and muse
guiding my bristleless brush
over thick froths of white

each day your gift:
another chance to create
to swirl what once was straight,
to spread what should be thin

on good days
i am salvador,
brow cocked to consider
how onions
and bagels
might over mesas drape

on bad days
i slice my thumb,
but know it could be worse
(right, vincent?)

untopple that easel!
for nine digits,
and your other half,
remain.




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10

08 2009

Tanka #1

ears have heard no ding
nostrils have whiffed no onion
yet i know it’s time
kitchenward my clock takes me
i sense my bagel is done




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09

08 2009

anatomically correct

peel me like onions
to see what’s inside:
hair, outer
veins, inner
in between, hide

deeper than these lies
my digestive sac:
crust, outside
dough, inside
sweet onion snack

08

08 2009