senses have eyes
deceived by
our all seeing eyes
...
close as your fingers
are to each other
tall, thin, fat, or small
...
a few verses of poetry
an ounce of love
a heaven of faith
a sea of knowledge
...
the chopped up boa
chunk and chunk
of floral leather
geometric design
...
my hands are tied
i paint with fingers
safely stored in
...
where i live
race issue is
bantered about
like a pop song
...
they know they
are losing grounds
because they are
not native, native
...
she launches her leg
into the air higher than
her shoulder, over her head
zeroing in on the single goal
...
alas, i have taken along the wrong gear
it is too late now, i have gone too far
the little boy who forgot his swimming trunk
just have to swim without one
...