Still Life #1
Negation: The light smashing
through dual panes beside
the three of us
long drags of colored paint
in low voices, a cousin’s politics
and in contrast, plucking syncopation
of a piano black.
Still Life #2
Alive in the air
a palm, too many fingers
the cold center hidden in the grey bricks
row after row
used cars and how easily the extremities
appear choreographed
Collaborators at the cliff’s image
you wait, he arrives, you come inside
he talks, you return to the street.
Still Life #4
Privilege denies your walking
any sort of danger: The long-necked,
coddled retard, and her coddling progenitor
nearly dead with age and dye hesitating
to cross into the trafficless thoroughfare
You park in the fire lane, four feet from the door
admonishing your safety, obvious
you are not a retread gumming your parents mistakes
riding your fearlessness.
Still Life #5
This is a place of commerce and your voice
does not fit amongst the vacuumed rugs,
the soft tailored chairs. Could be cancer
but Plotted Justice whispers, “Look for sand.”
Still Life #6
The things you look & stuff you eat
twirling the cup, you’ve given up
straightening your posture.
You have never seen this as a metaphor
although you understand it’s basic conceit
eating Mexican peanuts from a Ziploc
hidden in your purse.
