Norvena Vitet

Distraction

messy bun – ponytail
swift fingers wound with hair
comfort level – own skin
a flash of neck reveals
perform for us this smooth caress
your dancing follicle art
what freedom do you calmly feel?
this touch display – entrance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a Moustache that Tickled Pink
cold lips unmoving
there is nothing here of you
what swollen resemblance
this wax figure notion
where is your laughter?
the one thing they
should have embalmed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Asshole

this is
a fine rage
I’ve gotten into
this energy of anger
projects me on
to greater deeds
of disarray
and useless fury
project on me?
project this projectile vomit
hurled your way
special compliments of
this overreacting woman
you think
is interrupting you
even though
you started talking
long before
I had finished


Carpe Diem


Where is your laughter? Where does it go?
You were raised a Catholic, but made fun of them, and your best jokes
were about the Pope. You laughed like a naughty little boy.
Your moustache looks fake against your still lips,
and your face is inflated. Is that
what embalming fluid does?
You look so serious now.
Nobody called Willy, past the age of six, should
ever stop laughing.
Why aren’t you laughing?
That’s how
I know you…remember you…want
you to stay forever.
Your wife is crying. She has lost
her English. in her grief. What little she had is
gone. You learned to speak Spanish, so she had less
need of English, but more
need of you
and now you are laying in your only suit, which seems
uncomfortably tight
and I am so sorry
you have stopped laughing.