BOOTH in the market, attempt to re-begin,
DEUCE of a thing to lose a fortune, and retry a life,
ROAST marmot seemed an idea, but they’re not selling,
PROVE once again, please, that a new idea can emerge in time.

TIGHT fit in sound as cruise ships pass
ISLET’s small plot, once content in smallness, now in behemoth’s shadow,
AGONY of lost proportion, no size makes sense,
BASTEd by artificial swells and diesel fumes.

WHOOP it up, Yo Yo! Those hours with
CELLO: bearing lifetime’s fruit of beauty.
FIENDs did scoff at child hauling
BULKY case-each note now bids them shush.

BALER: almost Spanish for dance, evokes kinesis which
AMAZEs; body become poem in space and time,
SPICY every step, nothing bland, all fluid motion,
SEGUE now to me on couch, tired, shlubby–aging as I write this.