Scratching
You’ve been raking on my mind again
scratching at my nerves
time to clear the twig and branches
I’ve been raking over you
scratch, scratch, scratch
pull and tug
smack and pull
smack and tug
Belmont Stakes
All contents that enter the racetrack
must be in a container smaller than 12 inches
or contained in a clear plastic bag.
The patrons brought their contraband
in clear containers
they played the game
but these gamblers and thieves
make their own rules.
Sandwiches wrapped in saran
contain two pieces of hero bread
around water bottles filled with vodka,
others brought in Sprite bottles
filled with chardonnay
for a gambling diehard
buying a $180 seat,
in the grandstand near the finish line,
may be expensive,
maybe they can’t afford:
$25 for a flute of champagne
$15 for a glass of wine
$10 for a 20 ounce beer.
I was a guest at this party
looking in.
© Ann Privateer- image 1
Abecedarian Affair
As if it’s a dream, she
begins a friendship
cherishes a kiss
dances with smoke rings and fire.
Evenings when the lonely,
fiendish
ghouls in her
head arrive, she becomes a flirt.
Intense conversation,
just a harmless
kiss? Foolishly she
let’s him view her vulnerabilities,
memories, sad stories, alone at
night, lusting under the moon she
opens her heart
pours out her soul.
Quest to find love,
requires a clear
sound mind, which she gives up
tonight. She remembers a time
under a summer sky a
Valentine love
waltzing on the cliffs of the Heights.
X-rays can’t see her open wounds.
Yearning, she paces, a lion trapped in a cage at the
zoo.
Painting Demons
Late night she becomes a superhero
surrounded by paints and brushes
reaching out to an artist friend
they cut skin together.
Art is where the soul
lives naked.
Words can dance
fool a reader.
In paint, the soul is raw.
Tragedy is thrown on canvas.
Words can’t describe it.
Cutting skin releases
intricate, fragile demons,
filled with desire.
Taunting voices permeate his ink
calling her to the edge.
She needs his art.
She will buy tragedy.
Intricate, fragile demons,
filled with desire.
Stencil Art Opening
Banksy is in the room
artists shake hands
I am painter new-bee
surrounded by graffiti artists and fans
Mickey pours blue liquid
from a flask into a plastic cup
as I drink rationed Budweiser
the crowd heats up the tiny room
I’m given a lesson on stretching canvas
Growing Pains
Astronomical charts
Born under a moonless sky
Cosmos ignited the pyre.
Daddy said it was so hot
Earth could’ve been on fire.
Funny how we let
Ghosts of childhood
Hideout in bedroom closets.
Instagram photos record our
Joyride. Tinder
Kindles our relationships.
Linger longer, look at the mars
Moon before
Night rolls to dawn.
Oxygen in our blood.
Purple galaxies and meteorites: our thirst.
Revolving on this planet
Synchronicity brings us
Together in one
Universe tilting this
Vex of harmony.
Weekend warrior extracting
Xenon from the night sky
Your lantern is fueled by yellow
Zinnia flowers.