Walking in Circles
Do what I do: think of smoke
going up in squares, of light
coming down in cubes . . .
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The Old Man Gets An Insight
Even though I’m leaning against the toolshed
admiring the magnolia blossoms,
I can’t understand . . .
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His Apples Stay in Place
Because his eyes did all the talking,
Cezanne’s mouth had nothing to say.
Driven . . .
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The Four Loves of Latitia
1
I’m going to marry van Gogh.
Together we’ll mix paint
and set up heaps of color . . .
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