Punch and Judy

He keeps a swazzle in his mouth,

rage with a flourish, twist the words

if they don’t win over. That’s the way

to do it. If I’m a sharp-tongued woman,

I carved it on my teeth, biting back

bashings in favor of keep-love.

All day I’m punch-drunk, but at

night, the ceiling's dark stage

waits for us: clown-grimace

characters, a baby, a stick.

We kiss and dance, then

fight again. My puppets; I win.

What's this poem about? Ask me.

God curses creeping things

1 Then the Lord cursed the serpent

to crawl on its belly, eat dirt.

And Adam was satisfied, but

felt a question start inside him.

2 The serpent said Revenge

and smiled, sliding by. Man

was learning the ways of God.

3 Later, God gave more laws,

marked more abominations:

snake, turtle, salamander,

mouse, weasel, mole.

4 Adam watched a hare,

uncloven, unclean,

tuck into the brush

of the forest to forage.

He thought of Eve, made

from dust. He considered

that when he looks for God,

he always looks up.

poem for day 30 of the pandemic

suddenly the birdsong

is exposed by silence

little opera singer,

feathered diva.