.
Fraiser Crane wine so old
previous owner was Lincoln
don’t interrupt me
this is a conspiracy
not a theory
Sylvia Plath jar bell
a familiar hell
ahead of her time
the artist paints
poems
or otherwise creates
oh the mirror of pomposity
shining clearly thru
our “social media”
I am I and you are you
spider web crossings
now the whole world is watching
the whole world
. . . here in dark of dawn’s rebirth
comes a whooshing whooshing. . .
angel wings still flutter softly
’round the hearts of mortal man
. . . hoards of angels’ singing voices
praise the passing, evening light
praise the birthing day to be
unclung to old miseries
. . . all love is a pulling, tugging
to what calls a heart to play
see us here all tugging, pulling
one big clam shell open, closing
“will you come and play?”