The Freudian Slipper

When The Subconscious Throws Its Weight Around

The Encyclopedia Conundrum

As she headed out the door to work, a man arrived on her porch.

Colour

In the large bus,

the hustle, the unintentional touch,

Nothing

A curl of Turkish yellow smoke
 That spines up from a sullen floor
Comes curiously questioning:
 Is this all, or is there more?
The air hangs…

Gryl Walking…

As she strides to the guillotine 
With hair too wild to tame, like Medusa’ s braids, curls like snakes, hands can only touch to feel…

I sometimes think about

I sometimes think about 
why I do not write everyday
why I do get empty thoughts every night
why I do not have…

To fly

The sea eagle soars up the hill in a perfect “V”,

Words Atypical

A cocktail of words,
Spiked with succinctness,
Served on the platter
Of eloquence.