Print OD

The seagulls out there look like keyboard brackets –

The ones with a little chicayne, like a pleat.

What must those birds be thinking

Of my bent back, my heavy slippered feet?


My cat, a Q, sitting under the desk lamp,

Stares out the window, her slit I eyes on

Italic rays of sun and the underlining of the sky

Which I used to call the horizon.


I turn on the lamp.  Its glowing question mark bulb

Asks me why I am wasting my time this way,

Why I am not running, with the space bar down,

Out there, on such a glorious day.


Dots swarm before my tired eyes,

Full stops. colons, diereses.

I save. I file. I snap the iPad shut.

Time for a comma. No! I mean coffee, please.

tenz 2


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