Domestic Greenleaf

Something by the river spooked me and
I thought about my finances.

Everyday
we’ve eaten in the kitchens of Rome
since then,
you know, Summer Funtastico over and over.

You went shopping in a furniture store.

We have those bottles of olive oil and herbs
in our home of domesticity.

The visitors come, their hearts are warmed,
the scented candles burn.

An achy knee needs a bubble bath,
Fuzzy Wuzzy.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Target Department Store Poem

Before humans I’ve passed,

it’s light from an afternoon
shone

the muscles and fat that have made
the day’s echo

asleep with my silence under trees
in a yard.

In the human way I’ve had eyes,

counted days without a parent,

tongues without a language

and architecture sheltering tribes.

From what point on the calendar
have they come,
they do not know,

but they have trailed home
to cells of containment and electricity.

These are provided . . . these are provided.

And the satellites we don’t count,

we do not see the great migration
and the accords of ownership.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Crags Of Delphi In Kohl’s

I’m going into Kohl’s
at seven thirty seven A.M.

I’m going into Kohl’s.

Have I not lived?
Am I alive?
Is this what I do with
my partitioning?

The fluorescent lights
split
thoughts in my brain.

I was once alive again.

A bird.
In sky.

There’s a song beyond sky.
A song without.
A song within.

I go into Kohl’s but still
I live,
my eyes on last year’s
Super Bowl sweatshirt,
a pretzel bite dissolved in
my mouth,
memories of my vanished father,
visions of the crags of Delphi
from the air.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin