tonight I feel

like a little too much wine
and a cheap, easy read –
something sentimental
and predictable
with lovers destined
to end up alone.
Perhaps that’s
the happiest of endings –
for a heroine
to find herself pining
for the one who got away
before the novelty
and the good manners
and the romance wears off,
before the man who
only talks during commercials
comes groping for a quickie
between reruns of Seinfeld.

picnic tables

haiku (modern): morning

daybreak beckons
with creature stir and bird song,
earth exhale and morning dew

haiku: time

alligator breath
and rumpled sheets – my last born
grows much too quickly

haiku: routine

just before daybreak –
starlight in my morning sky
tennis balls for fetch

cohutta fisheries

when you see me

put on my black lace panties
and paint my lips bright red,

when you wonder

what you’re missing
but make no effort to engage,

know this:

I would rather

sit across a crowded room
from a man I cannot touch,

a man who clearly sees me,

than next to you in our living room
and be ignored.