Some Pseudo-Acrostic poems

Flawed

Fearless we are

Lolling about this hard wood floor

Acrobats without training

Wild and weary used car salesmen

Even though you think I don’t,

Darling, I can see the sweet twist of your lips close to my browbone.

Hip Hop

Honey, if

I

Planned every moment for you,

However soft and

Opalescent in song

People would still think we are just two silly white kids with a beat.

Joe 11/1

Just as you emptied me before

Obscene futility

Emerged from your fingers this morning.

Contemplation

Contempt is not the feeling I want.

Open and honest I

Nudge my hope, gift wrapped

To your back porch,

Endangering those rickety steps.

Mostly, I hope to hold you through your hurricane.

Patiently I will keep my finger in your belt

Loops, carefully

Accompanying you through your

Turbulence

I

Only hope you realize that this is

Not the apocalypse.