Mouth

She opens her mouth

Inside there is a doorway

Far beyond her teeth

It glimmers

Maybe there is a man inside

Strumming a harp

Or a piano 

When we feel strong

We wrap the tiger 

Around our shoulders

And smile

That is a rarity 

Normally we are as stuck

As a mechanical hand 

Fingers poised

Wrist bent

No room for writing

Or drawing 

Just a metal shelf

And a wind up lever 

Perhaps we will run for a train

Dress flowing

Suitcase in hand 

Or maybe we will just

Sit in a field

Wooden chairs 

Beneath us

Always a child 

That is the way 

I like it she says

Who would want to grow up

Close their mouths 

And scream

And so we look 

Beyond her tongue

See all the possibilities inside

The finest riddle

Or the biggest truth 

We cannot decide.

Attention

I often wonder

If I pay her the

Right attention

Too little 

And she will disappear

Too much 

And she will 

Grow bigger and bigger

She giggles

I have been 

Both big and small 

I look at her 

From across the room

Blue dress 

And white petticoat

Long blonde hair 

Shiny black shoes 

Is she there 

Or did I invent her

I invented myself

She declares

And skips a little

From foot to foot

We occupy the same space

Our own Wonderland 

Up days

And down days

Mostly down 

The adventure has worn thin

But she is still ready

To solve riddles

And take tea

She holds my hand

You are just right 

She tells me

And I conclude

That I am paying her

The right attention

We exchange smiles

And wait for night to come. 

Bees

Someone forgot 

To whisper 

Your death 

To the bees

She sings

I listen 

Her voice pitches

Like birds

In full flight

She skips around the room

I lean into her happiness 

Look out of the window 

Expecting ghosts

Or shadows 

My eyes cannot straddle

The whole view

On the table 

Is a letter

Wrapped in a red ribbon 

It is so precious

We dare not 

Open it 

Perhaps it was 

The bees replying

She says 

Her voice 

A little breathless 

Today we will try to live

Save our death 

For another day

She claps her hands in glee. 

Conversations with Walls

We hug the white

Concrete wall

It is as much comfort

As we need

As pointless as watering 

The ocean 

Or walking through a 

Field of barley 

In our finest dress

By the water 

Stands a woman in red

Two swans

Gather by her feet

In the distance 

He falls backwards 

Into the pool

We hold the butterfly

To our lips

Dare not scream 

Make a noise

All that clatters

Is the metal spoon

In the rusty mug

It is shrill

Like a piano tune 

Alice and I

Will take tea

Talk to Hatter 

Play for the day

By the concrete 

And the water

Listen for messages 

Take comfort in the cool 

Asphalt 

Conversations with walls. 

Time

Time affects all things

It can make you early

Or late

Make you turn the page 

Or linger on the words

It can make you happy 

Or sad

Playful

Or sullen 

She giggles

And says

It can bend 

Make you forget 

Which way is up

Or down 

Then everything 

Gets all muddled 

Like a riddle

Or a maze 

I look at her face

It is fresh

Like daisies 

Time has barely touched her 

I am full of wrinkles

And marks 

Time dealt me a tricky hand 

It passes 

Whether you want it to

Or not

In all our rooms 

There is a clock

We hear them tick

Count down the minutes

Turn them into hours

And days

Sometimes we wish 

We could go back

It is hard to move forward 

We are stuck like a second hand

Hovering on the hour 

Time affects all things

Even us 

We whisper.

Book of the Other

We are writing the

Book of the other

The one without grammar 

But full of choices 

In it we can change

Pronounce the life we have

Not get stuck on things

Of the past

All the scars on our skin

Will collapse 

And get buried

We really have accumulated

A lot

So much we are 

Stuck stuck sticky

A master class

In self destruction

And of survival 

She whispers

In this book we will 

Dance through the pages

It will be full of 

Blue skies

And marigolds 

There will be no pain

No powder 

No liquor

We will greet the day

Stone cold sober

There's no such thing

She says

There is always cake and potions 

But we can turn the page 

I reply

Choose to move forward 

See the light 

That is the magic of the

Book of the other

It is always moving

And we can follow it 

Until the end. 

Musicians

She cuts her hair

In between songs

It is dark and rich

Just like her voice

She stares deep into the camera

Sure of herself

And her music

I don't like thinking of real people

Says Alice

They make me nervous

I hold her hand

But you like singing 

And dancing I say

In a way all these 

Famous people 

Live in their own Wonderlands

Just like us

There are wild horses

Piers

Lizard Kings 

Submarines 

Parking lots 

And paradise 

Even bright eyes

If you listen close enough 

She claps her hands

In glee

I like his strong voice 

Singing of love 

That is what we do

Every time we sit together 

I would hold you upside down 

By the ankles if I could

But you are too old for that 

His baby looks happy though 

With his upside down smile

Just like the Cheshire Cat

We look at their pictures 

All so different 

And yet the same

Absorbed in music

Not afraid to be themselves

That makes us happy

And we hum our nonsense tune. 

On Making a Poem

First we take the letters

Roll them on our tongue

They are sweet

Not like chocolate 

More like liquorice comfits 

Some are sour like lemons

Alice giggles

Out of letters 

We build words

They come from deep inside

Unexpected

Sometimes a good surprise

Sometimes not 

Vowels and consonants 

Playing on a swing

Waiting to be written

Or sung 

We have little use for sentences

Instead

We break the lines

Rarely any commas

Or full stops 

We never did learn how to use them

Sometimes we wonder

Why we write poems

Perhaps it is to say something

Perhaps it is to hide in the shadows 

But it is our idea of fun

We say what we say

And move on

We only know when to finish writing 

When we come to the end of

Our thoughts

When the sweetness has faded away

And the blank page

Has turned from white

To black lines

Alice claps her hands

I put down the pencil

Another one completed

Many more to come, 

Let it be Broke

I do not understand

What it is to be a daughter

Alice nods

And plays

We are just bodies 

In a room 

Shadows of what 

We could have been 

Nothing worth

Arguing about 

I am scared of my own 

Voice

It stutters and burbles

Not like Alice

Who is clear as a bell

Always singing out loud

The music in her head

We are not at all alike

And yet we fit together 

Effortlessly

Like a broken pot 

Glued together

Through time and space

Making pretty pictures

Delicate cups

The world turns without us

Let it be broke

She declares

I understand why

If it is broken

We will have to fix it

And that will take time

Make us happy

Give us a reason 

To dance and sing. 

Bear Hug

She wraps her tiny arms

Around my shoulders

Is that me 

I wonder

The bear

I tilt my head

To look into her eyes

She is not afraid 

She is never afraid

Fearless

As only a child can be

In the twilight

We release paper doves

Into the sky

They float on the breeze

Soft and free

We like to see them

Take flight

It is as if we are soaring with them

In the polka dot

Room with the open window

The leopard loses his spots

Shall we paint them 

On again 

She asks

I say they will return

In their own time

The woman is all bones

Crouched over

The cello on her back

Must she really suffer for 

Her art

Must any of us

Asks Alice

The owl takes a piano lesson

And we eat tea

Happy and giddy

On this spring afternoon. 

Small Victories

Small victories 

Or big gains

She asks 

A propos of nothing

I stop and think

Well 

We don't think big

So I guess 

Small victories

Hmm

She sighs

And twists her hair

Around the pencil 

How will we 

Ever move

If we don't think big

That Little Cricket 

I do not know

The paper on the table

Fills up with 

Lines and scribbles

Words if you squint

Your eyes

I wonder what my 

Small victories have been

Surviving each day

Each month

And year

That sounds big to me

She murmurs

Perhaps she is right

Just waking up 

Is sometimes enough

Falling asleep

Even better

She giggles

I know what your best 

Small victory is

I read her mind

You 

I say

And we titter

In the twilight.

I Dare You

I dare you

To retire your books

Put them in the closet 

And breathe

She says 

Sitting at the table

Ready for tea

I cannot move

I am stuck 

Like a hawk

Hovering over its quarry 

I try to answer her

To cry 

Or laugh

But nothing comes out

I would like to visit

Wonderland

To find my voice

Like her

But now we cannot leave 

We are living 

And breathing 

Down the rabbit hole

The closets are too full

For books

Too full for me 

Everything is spilling out

Overwhelming me 

Keeping me locked in 

I dare you 

I think 

And which I could 

Dare to be alive. 

The Owl and the Radio

The owl sits on the radio

Finds a tune

Looks out the window

In the poppy field 

Outside

Alice dances

Dressed in red

With a red paper plane 

Certain to keep away the rain 

Men in hats 

Bow their heads

Dare not to look up

In the field is a single hen

Perhaps she will lay eggs

For breakfast

Make me eggs 

Alice trills

I wish I knew how

What I don't know 

Burns like a volcano inside 

I am the clown with 

No tricks

Or no treats

We will wait for winter

And frosted apples

Before we eat

All we need now

Is water

We are certain in its pursuance

Like deers crossing the road

To safety 

I would paint you silver 

If I could

Instead we cover our heads

Just like the owl

We can look behind corners

Hear the music

And dance.