My flannel
wintertime sheets
The petals of
the yellow flowers
on the table
My belly, especially
sitting in an office
all day
Our voices in the
bedroom, floating
above our invisible
bodies
IN BETWEEN
An accidental poem by Andy.
the loneliness
of young adulthood
when you’re
in between families
the one that
birthed you and the
one you’ll
start for yourself
CITY HOUSE
Living in my rented city house
my set of four city rooms
things i can’t change:
several gaps in the floorboards
mysterious with dust
remnants from tenants past
a gravitational yawn that pulls the
heavy bathroom door to crash against
the kitchen wall
and a hallway so matted with stale air
that even my modern day cleaning artillery
has barely made a dent
Roaree breathes softly next to me
paws and nose tucked into the
folds of a blanket
i mistake his tiny dream sounds
as mice squeaks
now and then
Galway Bay
it took four days of
wet-newsprint-skies
droplets covering my red beret
like the seeds of a strawberry
i positioned myself at
a window in one cafe
porcelain mug of coffee
and 2 books, stacked up
suddenly, finding
myself outside & my coffee
abandoned —
light on shining cobblestones
fast moving sky
please:
stay put for a moment
fog up the windows 