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A Christmas sort of poem

Those of you who are weird enough to appreciate my poetry check the latest out at the tag poetry. Work in progress of course.

Zelda re-re dux

It Gets Worse

I'd almost made it out the door.

Going somewhere?

Me?

You're skipping town again, aren't you?

Me?

Zelda grabbed my shirt tail and yanked.

I huff and puff and yank back.

You are out of line this time, sister

He wants no part of me

My cave is waiting

My muse is beckoning

Zelda is not amused

Your fucking muse is just bored.

Last night in Valhalla?

She spun the bottle and let it land on you. Ha!  You're it.

Lucky you

You get to write the play the gods are waiting for

And while you're writing it

He's gone.

Happy now?

Last Tango

I went to find Zelda

She had been off the screen for months

And we missed her.

I found her

Hunched over a martini

In a bar that revolved high above the City

Slowly, but with determination.

She did not look up.

Zelda!  I cried.

Come back to the dance

You left mid-tango.  He misses you.

She took a long pull on her drink and

Gazed out over the City.

My fingers touched her wet cheek.

Why, Zelda?

Because, Babe,

She smiled at me through her tears,

He ate my big fish. 

A short Zelda. More to come

Flowers

11/07

I go to the farmers’ market with Zelda.

She buys flowers

For her lover’s ex-lover

And sends them

Via UPS

Squashed into a nine-by-eleven manila envelope.

She agreed after considerable debate,  not

To include a note.