Phantom Itch

man-ray-photogram-of-hand
Hand, to buy or rent,
if phantom props are your thing–
Body optional.

 

(Photo by Man Ray)
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Lash

manray
The scarring gleam,
to produce penitent beads
of sorrow,
through a lashed eye,
darkly.

 

(Photo by Man Ray)

 

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Closer

man ray 1
You said you knew me,
but really, what did you know?
Closer, I dare you.

 

(Photo by Man Ray)

 

 

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Pulpit

IMG_3813
At the true pulpit,
Silence reigns, speaking volumes–
To praise, we listen.
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Lodge

image5
Hell, according to Sartre,
is other people.
When I arrived, god knows where,
silence, dust, clouds, a time-scarred sign
and not a soul anywhere to be found,
I began, in earnest, and jest,
to wonder if Sartre was right,
heaven,
 a favored solitary principle
adjusted to fit one’s gaze
and plight.

 

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Beach

henri-cartier-bresson-umbrella
Life, give us a break,
Love, the loafer’s paradise,
childlike in its reign.

 

(Photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson)
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Footsteps

The One That Got Away
Every last kiss,
a rupture in her psyche–
Unsteady walk home.

 

(Photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson)

 

 

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Noveltease

henri-cartier-bresson-martines-legs
Tuesday afternoon, blowing off
work to find his lover,
in bed, fondling Madame Bovary’s
text
under the covers,
literary flint and tease sparking
his novel request–May I read
between your legs?

 

(Photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson)
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Whirl

fb042ba77ac6639907c785cb5aea382f--fish-nets-henri-cartier-bresson
Whirling, to net wind,
Nature, ordained to coerce,
gives breath to poems.

 

(Photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson)
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Wither

david-john-lotto-6-roses
From morning to noon,
the roses gathered to grieve
the loss of their bloom.

 

(Photo by David John Lotto)
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