With daddy and left over pie
I see a monkey bound to fall
Crucial but I don't know why
Like a roulette game swinging
Over water, reversals of us
Wicks wacky humans
Good sometimes, losers too.


Butterflies bedeviled
Erstwhile everything
Soon to be fantasy
Unpacked there
In the kitchen
Swiss cheesecake
Fried insects
Sizzling sea horses
Race the young
And the old.


Clop, Clop, Clop
worrying the hems
of dresses will
get muddy
until fire engines
wiz by spraying
water, a good
decision.


The seas are filled?
With mystery
Life deep down
Within and without
Dissect, distract
Replace that affair
To remember
Before it's too late.


A man wears sneakers
With empty toes
Has thin white hairless
Legs, feminine
I suppose, the opposite
Or not of big foot.


In a smile
In little blue eyes
That theorize
Conglomerate
With a loud horn
The cutest pussy cat
The cuddling furry beast
Old or young
Limonene gold
From the never
World that causes
Us to wonder.


Ann Privateer is a poet, artist, and photographer. Some of her recent work has appeared in Third Wednesday and Entering to name a few. She enjoys all of the above and is happy to share them with you.