Thursday, November 25, 2010

Illusions

One of a dying breed -
an elegant smoker - you lean
casually against the wall
and watch the dance-floor
through the mirror.

You kiss your girlfriend
and whisper a smokescreen
of lies, while you reflect
on another woman.

Your girlfriend keeps
a voodoo doll in her purse -
savage with pinpricks.

Smoke burns her eyes.


previously published in Anon Magazine and in my pamphlet Unthinkable Skies

Sunday, November 14, 2010

haiku

cold November day -
why are so many people
carrying their coats?