You play one last note on the quiet Wurlitzer,
yielding to the murmur of distant whales
near the beach, and I pray to Buddha
hummingbirds will revel in the sand.
The smell of cabbage drifts into the parlor.
I wipe the marble counter and shut
the oven door, flashing the calico and tuxedo
a honeyed smile. You and I flirt
during the drive to work, on our elevator ride.
Coil against each other like contented snakes.
While the clocks hide in the bottom
drawers, we prowl the office all day,
selling every stock in sight
after we kiss each other’s noses for luck.
Monday in a Nutshell
April 25, 2016 by 1 Comment
I liked David’s poem andhis blurb. Don’t tell me I’ve found a literary journal I can like! There are 4,800 lit journals, so I read, and this is the first one I may like! Congrats. Let me go read some more.
Peter Garland
Oaktown, California