Close Call

OZONE smell fills the air where the
QUITE close––too close––lightning struck like a
NINJA. Me taking cover? Not so much. No
AWARD for grace or poise forthcoming.

Ruin Preferred

OZONE above might heal, last joint act before we
NINJAed away collective deeds of grace, now re-
QUITEing every impulse of care with scorn. Darwin
AWARD more lustrous than common good, ruin preferred.

Pike Place

CROOKed the foreman finger for fish to fly,
THREW the crew their catch for crowd,
SUAVEly caught and given paper wrap,
BEGINs stray custom, winds up a tourist trap.

Vogue

SUAVE, debonair, I’m sure I look; by hook or by
CROOK I thought I’d win them all over––until reality
THREW me a curve ball, and I at last
BEGIN to see it’s a funhouse mirror before me.

No Refuge, Nor a Friend

CROOK rifled chest to steal every last doubloon
THREW my parchment and my quills in the lagoon
SUAVE he posed with charm yet executed only harm
BEGIN he now and reckon to the end, he’ll find no refuge nor a friend.

Secret smoker

ASHEN burns on ancient brown ash-
TRAYS. Nicotine stains on fingers.
BUGLE warning, hide the stash! Something’s
AMISS! It’s that smoky reek than lingers!