My Resume And Resignation

I am qualified to lie
I can secure the account
I can punch a clock
I can torque a wrench
Turn a cheek, twist a screw
Shuck some corn
and fly a kite

Paper Tigers

I keep my paper tigers close to me
Anxiously pacing, dogged and untamed
Like the very last satyr in the world of man
Crumpled wads, all bark and neutered maws
Gilded divertissements that tiptoe around
My real demons and the elephant in my room
Like my fear of getting chained to comfortable
When all I dream about is running as fast as I can

Runaway Trains

There’s this divide
Thirty seconds wide
Trillions of commercials long
Most everyone I have ever met
Want to save the planet
While filling up with gas
Or vote to save the environment
But refuse to leave their cars

Turn Out The Lights

Somewhere the party never stopped
Somewhere the 7th floor of the Sheraton
in Madison, Wisconsin is still shaking its head
Gathering its tables and chairs up from outside

Somewhere there are still packed music venues
With sweaty teenagers hanging on every note
By just word of mouth and zero promotion
Somewhere the ice cream man ain’t talkin bout love

Places That I Have Never Been

I’ve never been to Disneyland
But I know what it’s like to be disappointed
Mickey is just some dude

Poets Anonymous

Hi, my name is Cara and I am a poemoholic
It’s only been 24 hours since my last sonnet
And it’s been 13 days since the last time I’ve
used the words coruscant and tattered in a line

A Collector of Highs

I’m a collector of highs
Like a nano journalist
Clung to the necks of crows
I am murders of knowledge
That comes only by scavenging
Through trash and old cigarettes
To find a shiny thing worth holding
I am the art of the cuttlefish

My Slaughter

My love is an abattoir
And if my heart was glass
Nobody would ever come in
If you are brave enough to look
You’d see the carnage of my intention
Splattered across bedroom floors

The Escape Artist

Fawn eyed creatures
Like me have no chance
My ocean targeted. Dredged
Every sea dollar spent
My hiding spots albescent
Snowing and pregnant with plastic
I hide out during the workday
Sitting on my gender neutral throne
My island at my job. I write poems
While pretending to excrete
While thinking these words

Summer Air

Clinquant melodies of scattering leaves and seed Soughing plaintively between sunburned hollows Like perfumed tiny tourists from a passing charabanc Their lilacs’ scent of sweet sillage lingers for a puff Leaving painted imaginary doodles of agitated air behind Foregathering in the wakes of napes, and marooned nooks Of plumped and ripened orange bursting splurt lilyContinue reading “Summer Air”