Bag It and Tag It

You thought you’d get away with it,

brush your issues under the carpet,

bury the bloody hatchet

under leaves soaked in denial.


baggage has a way

of popping up at unexpected ports,

velcro to warm woollen socks,

 giving away your egress

with a resounding crunch.

That rake in the corner of your garage

hasn’t seen much use;

it has your name written all over it.

Time to wear off your summer snacking

and take a good hard look at

what lies all over your lawn.

Bag it and tag it,

and the snow will find

softer landing.

Show Me What You’re Made Of

Show me what you’re made of;

I’m not interested in air-brushed thighs

or botox smile

or cookie-cutter glamour.

I want to know what’s underneath,

where thoughts hatch dreams,

where secrets light your eyes.

Beneath the skin,

between the ribs,

where life-blood pounds

in veins of glass.


show me what you’re made of,

so I can let my mask fall,

autumn defoliation

that will leave us

au naturel.