Nissan Cherry

I left the engine running
On the river bank,
heaved a bag of bricks
Onto the accelerator.

The car was old and horrible,
A beast that had to go.
The engine cried and
Screamed too much.

I watched it run and dive
Into the brown drink,
and saw through the read window
A smiling little face.

The Plough

Your homes front door smashed in,
Like a stalk beneath the wheel
And your misses cries out,
“Oh, you’re home are you?”

haiku

Closed doors, scented pillows.
Your hips, lips rubbing mine
Between the willows.

Rustic fences block the
Way. Sodden galoshes,
Cold little digits.

Tea and hot chocolate.
The plague negating chances
Of goodbye kisses.

Doctor

I have my personal doctor
Who visits me at home.
I call him up, he come to see me
Whenever I'm alone.

He tries to keep my head in check;
Helps me with my troubles;
Helps me lift the bottle
And sometimes serves me doubles.

When the sink gets blocked
And filled with recycled left overs
Out comes the tool box and
The one, the only Mr. Muscle.

And when she performed
Her final half pirouette
He said chin up, a drinks the cure
And kept me out all night.

Mixed signals.

The euqivocation was misleading.
You thought you had won the golden ticket
But she never really let you in,
And you only had your wounds to heal.
So from this day forward
No tergiversation.
Only candid, frank, reliable conversation.

It was crystal clear now,
The tune pitch perfect.
In your hallway, behind a freshly
Slammed door, you stood erect,
Disappointed at being the
Losing candidate.

1310

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