S Beck

Ankles
S. Beck

In your bridal photograph
a puffy little rabbit
sits wrapped in white crepe.

That picture seems to prophesy
but it is (thank God!)
a false portent.

Since now, after eight years
a glimpse of your ankles
is enough to promise bliss.

Why I Prefer Chaos (for that little fellow in Toronto with one eyebrow)
S. Beck

I would tell you
to make you scream

palpitate your tiny little mind
ream out your petty imagination
or make you slobber all over yourself
mold your thoughts
otherwise than usual
take you to somewhere
else than the shabby corner you dwell in
slimy hole, rather.

To tell you,
however
evil as the truth is...

seldom will I disclose
even the smallest of my secrets
xerox machines leave a trail

tell you, I shall never tell you
roger that, you won't get it from me
arrogant
dark-browed
earnest little tripe-eating troglydyte.