a reviewer’s eye
Monday, July 2nd, 2012The ability
to spot talent, flaws, passion,
potential, mistakes.
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The ability
to spot talent, flaws, passion,
potential, mistakes.
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Let’s hide in the cool
of the ocean, when the sand
scorches our bare skin.
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Fate tosses select
emails declaring love, hate
aside for more spam.
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The young campers hop
about backstage, waiting to
dazzle their parents.
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If the platypus
played an instrument in band,
it would be trombone.
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Our hieroglyphics
consist of pithy slogans
on sunset photos.
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Some educated
guesses mixed with wild hunches
to look somewhat smart.
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Weaving the strips in
deliberate sequence to
make lovely patterns.
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Along a quiet
road in the English country,
a flame heads homeward.
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He looked back for friends
from childhood, lost loves, schoolmates,
but they were all dead.
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The agency wants
the right candidate, but no
one too “elderly.”
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Sifting through garbage,
watching through binoculars,
but no mornings, please.
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The walk from parking
lot to doorway roasts bare flesh
with intense UV.
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Runs on moxie, parks
anywhere, top comes down, big
cup holder, blasts tunes.
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Dark orphan purrs his
way into a regal life
in hilltop castle.
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