​Amusia


Since he was tone deaf, 
she became a dial tone.
Defensive disconnection.

Once, she’d had musical
aspirations. Knew the bounds
of absolute and relative.

But every tune turned 
into a one-note drone.  
Perfect pitch to pitched battle. 

She changed her tune 
again and again
but he was not amused.





Kitchen Two-Step


We aim for balance:
two bowls, two spoons, two hungers.
A small, simple meal.

A subtle art, this
pas de deux. Nimbly we step
around one another.

One deftly handles 
the knife, while the other cries
over the onions.

We take turns checking
the pot, adjusting the flame
so nothing boils over.

One has an instinct
for how much pepper to add— 
and is always right.

Sometimes, we glance up
and notice one another
smiling for no reason.

Across the kitchen
you’re oh, so busy doing
your waggle dance.

This way to the nectar,
you signal. And I follow your lead
straight to dessert.




​
Holy Craps
"God does not play dice with the universe.”
                                                                — Albert Einstein
Could it be a sin
to think God plays at dice?
I suppose He'd win.
 
Ah, but then again,
it seems like such a vice
for the likes of Him.
 
Sure, He likes his gin— 
straight and chilled, no ice— 
​when rectitude wears thin.

And much to His chagrin,
He's easy to entice.
I bet He's in.