Looking

 

On here cause I’ve been told

I can’t be a power couple

without another person.

Whoever said Asian girls

can’t dance never met me.

 

Twentyfour.

Hairy.

Sarcastic.

Libra.

Feminist.

Brat & Professional Crybaby.

My friends already think I’m too good for you.

Continue reading “Looking”

Poem for Paul Thomas Anderson (For Phantom Thread)

 

I’m afraid I might be the Woodcock type.

I too need to poison myself to feel better.

I too cannot tell the difference between

growing colder and growing more earnest.

Better to slave away at your own redemption

than ask someone else to waitress it for you.

But maybe there is someone out there who

knows me well enough to make me slave.

I think I could love a person like that

without ever realizing I was falling in love.


R. Charboneau

 

To Some House Finches

 

You were all about on the bare ground

parsing litter from a naked and spidery tupelo

in the last cold light of day in the backyard.

 

I’d forgotten or was too lazy to spread some seed

that morning, so maybe you’d come back at the end

of a long day’s searching to make one last go of it.

Continue reading “To Some House Finches”