Some Short Poetry
By Nik



* * *


When the light is right,
my shadow casts a shadow.
We are all monsters.


* * *


Without warning
you fall off your tricycle
and you're dead.


* * *


Broken nail scratches
an invisible line.
Transparent tape life.


* * *


Moon and me --
we did it.

Stars are nails
holding tarpaper sky.

Moon is a hammer head.
I am the handle.

We beat the stars
into place
following no design.

Our hammer whimsy
created your
astrology slash destiny.

We're very sorry.


* * *


Drowned Child

small, blonde.
eyes are gone.
tiny lifejacket
put on wrong.

wet, bloated.
on surgical tray.
smell of rot,
ocean spray.

waxy, white,
ridiculous.
clothing on
a fish foetus.


* * *


changes in the window

a few
parallel lines
spin on their spines
and the sun
so suddenly
dies


* * *


Collapsed silver lungs
litter the streets,
now that we've finished
the potato chips.


* * *


A foreigner from
a country of one -- no one
speaks my mother tongue.


* * *


Playing the twist on
a tiny silver trombone.
Destroyed paperclip.


* * *


Orange orbs twined in
vine already glow as though
they cradle candles.


* * *


i never
gobble dee gook.

i slowly
eat dee gook
wif knife
& fork.


* * *


Thanks to my efforts
the sound of rats in the walls
has changed to a smell.


* * *


You're not smart enough
to understand
how stupid I am.


* * *


Gardener sleeps in.
Seeds snore in the envelope.
Luscious wave of weeds.


* * *


Distended belly
full of blue unborn baby.
Shy frog in the grass.


* * *


The chess pieces look
much better to me in their
starting positions.


* * *


London (AP) -- Nicolas Walter, an internationally known anarchist died of cancer on March 7 in the central England town of Milton Keynes, British newspapers reported Monday. He was 65.

Does anarchy work?
Here's an answer: Nick Walter
just died from cancer.


* * *


According to CBC newsworld, a curling champ named Sandra Schmirler -- who won Canada the gold in Nagano, Japan -- died of cancer. She was from Biggar, Saskatchewan.

Curler Schmirler, from
Biggar, is not better. She's
gone, Saskatchewan.


* * *


The plow shaves away
soft snow, exposing a stripe
of cold black pavement.

The plow shaves away
soft snow, exposing a stripe
of cold starless sky.



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