Two Weenie Poems Posted Together to Help Fulfill Loyal Readers

"Perforated"

then the top fell through the bottom
and all predictions fell futile.
the path walked was beaten,
the path to walk
invisible.
the heart
perforated
as though someone knew something
I didn't
and marked me
with the knowledge
from the inside.
from observator to insider
I suddenly hope to change.
what good are choices
should they be
pre-cut
by a subconscious
(and an inconsiderate one at that.)



"Tightrope"

heartstrings a tightrope
to be navigated
gingerly, precisely
as though the line walked
is between clouds
instead of between
feelings.

because feelings,
if we can help it,
are only felt
and never stressed
or pressed.
the unknown, unsurprisingly,
left alone.

your feelings, clouds?
to block the sun
allow for shade?
or to swell before you
and rain upon parades?
take your time.
one foot in front of the other.

[I hope writing these one after the other makes up for their somewhat identical style.]

The Verdict

I face the windowed wall
twisted in a dark blue armchair
(its velvet rubbed to linen
where heads lay
and coffee mugs rest)
so that elbows touch ankles
and toes meet fingers.

Grey leggings coat my lower limbs,
emerging from your red knit sweater
whose arms envelop mine.
My worn-out knuckles are lost inside the cuffs.

I watch the sky and ask it what to write.
The birds are middlemen, reporting
my anthologies' titles to the clouds --
evidence offered while they determine
what more I have to express.

A door opens, closes.
Footsteps grow more pronounced behind me.
You kiss my ear.
The clouds are silent.
The rain is not.