Wolverine Stew: To The Keene

Tropical shirts and impromptu strings

And a dragon to watch over it all

Plastic ivy wrapped round found/fashioned staves

Tipped with hot-glue pinecones

Dancing screams filling the aisles

Green stars shooting into my eyes

Onto the curtains behind

A place where a rubber chicken

Is a great and terrible power

Paper carefully planted in plots

And watercolor paints

As a library is carried to the seats

And very soon that paper will bloom from

Blank black floors of the stage

That rise to fill the space

When the lights go out

And when they return

The dust rises in a dozen beams

And the show begins  

Wolverine Stew: Can Someone Please Tell Me When We Get Spring?

From the field of mulch and needles

The flowers seem to glow

Icicles sprouting up to

The gray that comes and goes

Patch of frost encircled by deep blue

Still here in the cold

And I miss when I could see the

Moon like a hole punched in

Purple-paper skies  

But it doesn’t feel bad to wait

Because as the night goes on

The stars peer through like

Roots splitting through stone

And the flowers are still here

Daffodils and crocuses and

My realization I need to learn more

About the blooms I still pass by

Because one day we’re going to have a spring

And it is going to stick

But for now, I’ll just wait for

The next sneak preview

Wolverine Stew: A Couple Games of Life

If I looped a day this week it would be

The one of paper eyes, water on fire

And a wave of scattered dice

A room erupting in howling cheers

And you are part of those cheers

And the cacophony is almost as sweet

As the impromptu victory feast of three afterwards

The one of cackling sailors and bees

Mechanical smiles reflecting my own

Popcorn boxes and pinball machines

Acid-touched stone man, wall of magicians and elephants

Going together to each of the

Drums, zombies, and a card with my fortune

Root beer floats, overflowing or not

And I could get used to it all

And to the

Quiet in the sunlight afterward

As turkey tails sprout from rotting logs

And every yard begins to turn blue with flowers

Because whether it’s something old or new

I still feel at home

Wolverine Stew: Break

This is the break between winter and spring

Coal and glass and shells line the rivers

Carving their way through mountains of

Budding trees and rhododendrons

The clouds make the sun come down in rays

And along the cliff’s edge I can see

Vultures take flight alongside

A raven finding a home on thawing branches

Its call echoing through the trees

Part of the woods are scorched

Singe marks at each base of bark

And ashen earth, but beneath it

I can still see deep mossy greens

And on and on I note the

First flowers I’ve seen this year

The first web I’ve seen this year

The first deer I’ve seen this year

Wandering past swings yet to be used

The sun sets behinds wisps of orange

The sky open, free of any light below

And I know the cold will return

Before it goes away again

But for now, I take this moment

This is the break between winter and spring

Wolverine Stew: Making Plans

Tonight I saw

A cord wrapped round a bike

Without its wheels

I wonder whether the wheels or chord

Were there first

I wonder where it goes

The sky is clear except for

The wisps of orange built over the

Day, still the moon is always

Visible, always getting closer to full

I once saw a line of crows calling to

One another across the Diag, from

Downtown to the cemetery to the woods

Today, there were four

Are they here early or late?

I hope to see them all again

Filling budding branches with

Black-feather leaves

The snow melts away, comes back, melts

Away, and I’m not sure where the day went

I just know there’s still more of it

And somewhere in that time inside my room of

Half-lit string lights I’ll have to replace someday

And in those late-night walks, trying to find Orion each time

Remembering a stage formed from

Paper hyacinths and rubber chickens

And in those moments talking about

How falling forever was high school me’s heaven

And taking friends to see the sunset

I think I might be ok

Wolverine Stew: Valentine

Cooling chocolate and a pile of

Roses right next to symmetrical puns

Thawing snowy sugar suffused with guava

Dry branches waving in winter winds

A book of cryptids and a mycelial song

I put close to the nerves on my heart

Hoping pale moon eyes and paper ravens

Can reciprocate the joy of

Being with you

Patchwork made of moon and stars

Resting in the theatre

Music blaring in the night sky

Two voices singing, laughing