termite crematorium (for the firewood man)

termite crematorium (for the firewood man)

every night
i put the log in
they burrow deeper, and the fire finds them, and they die.
I sweep their dust up every morning,
with my bare hands,
as befitting.


©Peter A. Greene 2015

nsa

nsa

if you hire a burglar to build your house
don't be surprised when a few items go missing


©Peter A. Greene 2015

stalk

destroying an earworm

owls

red eyes at night,
owl's
delight red eyes
in the morning
owls take warning


©Peter A. Greene 2015

slow toll

          slow toll -

 a bell, a feather
 and forever


©Peter A. Greene 2015

it's not poetry

it's not poetry
most of the time
i say something
but i'm lying




©Peter A. Greene 2015

his professional quest the story

his professional quest the story
© 2015 Jim Wittenberg All rights reserved

the moon robotess

the moon robotess sits
in lairs and caves
awaiting prayers
she cannot hear:
there is no air there




©Peter A. Greene 2015

close

repeated three times in incremental stanzas

repeated three times in incremental stanzas
© 2015 Jim Wittenberg All rights reserved