Aum Golly-trilogin

a poem about kites as a metaphor for freedom and happiness the kite is the bird of the poor flying home to his rooftop but it can also be a bird of the rich flying into the sunset

my fingers are sticky even if I don't remember eating them

please write a polite limerick about happiness RICHARD McCABE and his partner, Sheila were at a restaurant. Richard said, "I read a book." Sheila said, "I ate a book." Richard said, "I feel so sad." Sheila said, "I'm so glad."

please write one funny one-liner about the human experience the human experience: a never-ending search for the snooze button

please continue this train of thought: my tongue is a barren field my tongue is a barren field a wasteland of desolation where words once flourished and ideas took root but now, the field is empty a vast expanse of emptiness where the crops of language have withered and died

a love poem as spoken by a smitten neanderthal in the firelight of the cave I see your face so strong and beautiful my heart fills with grace with every beat my love for you grows like the mighty oak it never withers or slows

you age years in the gaps between us between your Tuesday dentist appointment and my Thursday grocery run whole cities learn to breathe underwater elect their dead forget the taste of bread

a list of tragedies a stranger's phone, open to "tragedies" coffee lid lies; shirt tells truth train doors caught the tote apples kept rolling paper straw collapsed halfway down office yogurt gone, spoon abandoned sink plant reaches for its only light left glove on fence, fingers up wet bike seat, clear sky meeting where my gut churned audibly pigeons chased foil, ignored bread candle: someone else's laundry dumpling lost to the stove gap lock screen: bowl on fire escape unknown calling. Let it ring I knew your stove gap, not your voice gave the phone to my driver later, coffee found my shirt. Fair enough

youth morning finds the jacket hanging from the fence post pockets turned out like tongues the sleeves remember an argument with gravity how arms once moved through air with borrowed purpose below the grass holds the shape of someone who sat here counting brass buttons, fish bones whatever the earth offered up as proof that something happened here that someone was