Some poems
“Pastels” by yours truly
Pastel-colored clouds
In the morning foothills beyond.
The colors are low.
They are vibrant but soft.
Past Elles gone, past.
Thought of a woman I knew
Who dressed sometimes in pastel.
What did I know? What could I tell?
We broke up, oh well.
Not well at the time.
“Hold tight but don’t cling,
Mr. Octopus.”
“Vacuum” by yours truly
Sometimes I would like
To burn my phone —
So many calls either irrelevant
Or just silent when I pick up.
It is like a vacuum when I pick up,
And I don’t mean trying to pick up a woman
Nature does abhor a vacuum.
“Strobe” by yours truly
Small lines of color like tendrils
Can emanate from the main
Bright white light of the flashlight
At night,
Like a strobe light.
It’ll be alright.
Alright.