POEM 034/100

September 18, 2012

The coffee became bitter

as it cooled, forgotten

behind a potted sprig of catnip


POEM 033/100

September 13, 2012

Your right eye

and my left

meet over the ridge of the pillow


A rising star, a setting sun

and the sound of the air conditioner

POEM 032/100

September 7, 2012

This is the point in the bus ride

—the down slope of the bridge—

when I grow disdainful of any book I’m reading

and lean my forehead against the cool, dirty window

to read license plates



POEM 031/100

September 6, 2012

Work completed for the day

he leans all his weight  on the door frame

and wipes his brow


“Now,” he sighs,

with a grin that favours sadness,

“I have to go home and cook my dinner

for I am alone”


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