sex on the floor

with a hat wreathed in flowers
and sex on the floor
besides the water garden
under a sun shaped like a vagina
the woman felt relaxed
holding a large cigarette in her mouth.
reading Dionysos
while wet sand pushed between her toes
the lady felt the heat of July
little by little
draw salty beads of perspiration
in wavy lines
on her skin.
in a loose-fitting dress
and barefoot
in a quiet way
she looked at herself in the mirror
and saw a bird fly from a wire cage.

tie my shoe

cutting for stone
with one blind eye
and a sharp chisel
there's dust on the showroom floor
the radio host is talking about the next terrible world war
and my first chapter is still inching along
although some of the characters apparently don't belong
but when the whistle blower
and the cleaning lady appear
the picture window is finally thrown wide open
a fresh breeze comes near
and i listen closely to what i can now hear:
there are strangers in the hallway
friendly ghosts painting in the studio
they ask me where are you from
and i tell them i don't know
but it was jungle humid and very hot
summer heat hard like lead shot to the forehead
a nearby city crying in mourning
police officers in uniform dropping dead
the Sunday News folded on the front porch
bold black text in 20 point font screams it's the end
but i've heard it before and now it's coming back again
before this Friday nights' opening
before the chilled wine and finger snacks
up again the nearest wall we lean with our thin backs
ramrod straight until we're ordered to stand down
i pick up and put on the vandal's crown
as the first guest arrives to see my finished work
and i show her a native tree
she asks me who was the artist
and i tell her it was me
but that seems like such a long time ago
when i worked in a much larger studio
and the lake water was pure so i could drink
and everyone seemed to matter so i could relax and think
the wild asparagus was a plant to eat
with cheese and oysters and nearby a sharp knife
my old television set is turned to a show called 'This Is Your Life!'
and the washing machine is making a lovely noise
down the hallway near the locked door behind which all my childhood toys
remind me that i've been lazy
what am i to do when i can no longer tie my shoe?