FORTY-TWO Bravo world, I’m forty-two Midway into the chamber of    sound sleep I peer down murky corridors A baby restless in her    bunting Struggles to evade the noose Authority fashioned for me I refused to use the right    fork And lose the meal’s taste I picked birdlike at sensation Hunted for permanence in a    sandbox Ego kept me from hearing    waterfalls chatter From dancing on a rainbow¹s    arc Curses on conformity If the moon’s made of green    cheese I¹ll cut a slice Sure as sun gleamed waters Give way to moonlight At forty-two, I’ll gorge    myself on today Seize the butterfly moment Not bewail its flight Damn what was! And what will be!

MOVED Moved out of my old shell Left behind twenty years Dream furniture, crated Tied up with tears Cords round giddy laughter Stored in memory trunks  Dead parents sorted     out Marriage packed tight Ready to travel Heavy baggage stacked Labeled for my home    unknown Its vacant rooms Wait to inhabit me I saunter into my new    space A frisky, furtive mouse    at play.

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