“Packed Lunch”

Image courtesy of L. Alvarado

“Packed Lunch”

Cherry tomatoes, celery.

Mini-carrots, stringy cheese.

Butter crackers, square Cheez-Its.

snack-sized baggies, so it fits.

Raspberry juice box, flexi straw,

ice pack cooling, as it thaws.

My day brings many, many things,

while you’re at school, I’m in meetings.

The only way I get to be,

there for you, is when you eat.

So, look at each and every piece,

and know I put my love in between.

When I make your lunch for you,

I’m hoping your day goes smooth.

We’ll meet up later,

to hash it out.

And you’ll tell me,

what to keep out.

And when I go to make it new,

I’ll remember the revised menu.

“Pollenhate”

“Pollenhate”

You’re a ham fisted, nostril puss, put off.

A suffocating, son of a bitch.

A red-eyed, torn membrane, scratchy gulch.

Itchy pyrrhic sandpaper senses,

begetting a breathing tragedy.

Comfort, an oasis, yearning for the first frost of winter.

Dirty seed, blowing to the winds, blowing from the trees.

Blow me!

Grizzly gross green.

Headaches thumping.

Kleenex pumping.

Burst pipe nostrils.

Sinus clog, green-yellow eyeliner.

Sophisticated spores spawning misery.

Crusted, nasal mineshaft vein,

haunted by cemented boogerplasms.

Nose hair tendrils throughout, impossible to retrieve without a monumental effort.

A quick blow, or two,

A Rorschach tableau, if you will?

Winds of seasons change,

a necessity now,

not just a want.