Refit Needed

JOINTs stiff, I ponder what might constitute personal
REFIT, how to find a new me, not just pipe dream when
TESTY with life, but real change, to beat peering into
STEIN looking for what is never there.

Mood Prison

SHIRTy, angry, up the night, late to bed,
AWOKE I late as well, frail and dull,
JAUNTy for five minutes, then guise crumples to fatigue.
ULTRA, how to be, when any mood is the lord of me?

Centaur Chef

CRICK right through, greensward either side.
PENNE being cooked by centaur for dryad audience,
MANLY creature, healer, yet shy before no art, thus
GLADE becomes unlikeliest stage for reality food show.

Crossing Inferno

IDLER, came to senses, nowhere, tangled in a thicket.
BERTH then took on freighter, crowded among other lost souls.
ORBIT left, all is blackness dotted by sharp star light. Does he
FETCH up on new shore, new understanding? Does he find a guide?

Son of Ozymandias

CRUEL does the sun beat down on desert sand.
TRUNK of stone, legless, headless–giant–stands,
SUITE of servant figures small and toppled round.
ALLOT him but little thought: he’s also in the ground.

Cozy Saturday

IDEAL winter Saturday: spent home, warm, listening to
CHESS records, Etta James perhaps.
SHADY spot in summer is the inverse for comfort, but in winter it’s
SHAWL wrapped and cozy, with a soundtrack from yesteryear.