A poem I wrote a few years back when rhymes were all the rage. I then thought (and perhaps I still do) that 'rhymes' with the aid of some abstractions could take the edge off some pretty terrible moments.
___________________
Seated on his right, heart open and glowing,
she fills calendars with dates and casts for saints
days in her most adorable White going!
Fear of nights, dabbed in shades, & Dad's complaints
can't be assuaged, she thinks, by strings of x's and o's
Face resting in linen, she stares him in the eye
and, lowering like lids, two orchid lids, shows
a grey-veined floor's a Space where daughters can lie
Tic tac toe! the comb hairs and bees spin the wheel,
make a move and be the boss by flexing me--
am I free to run in parks, or rise to skies of teal,
sewn, like reeds, in stinky ponds of Galilee?
She pats Dad on the hand tic tac! just like that,
determined to prove marble's not so hard on the knees
The stars don't impress her much either so
the sweeter to be-- I have to pee, excuse me, please
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