Mush (an acrostic poem)

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Maybe it was too late in the day to do such things, but she tried to solve his riddle

Under the glow of a full moon, she contemplated what he had said and how he had said it

So many possibilities rattled around her cranium, demanding she fit the moving pieces together

Her head started to pound as she felt the pieces fly away, her ability to comprehend slowly devolving to…

Lumber (an acrostic poem)

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Log after log swung off the truck and onto the mud

Under a gray sky that threatened snow any day now

Maybe she would have time to get this cabin built, but it would be close, too close.

Before she had moved out here, all she knew was the stuff you got from Home Depot or Lowes

Every day in this wilderness ingrained into her a sense of place, a sense of nature

Reaching for the first log with her backhoe, she eased her future over the foundation wall. Time to build her future.

Duet (an acrostic poem)

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Double her melody, but a third higher they said

Under normal circumstances that would have been a cakewalk

Except she found out the person she was singing with was Mariah Carey

That meant either she needed to find another octave in range or have a car hit her so she could get out of it

Ugly (an acrostic poem)

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Under the harsh bathroom light, he looked hideous.

Going on this date was such a bad idea.

Leaving her alone would be better than returning to their table, wouldn’t it?

Yet when they left the restaurant she held his hand, and he wondered why.

Plain (an acrostic poem)

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Putting her unadorned baggy white dress on

Leaving so much to the imagination that it hurt to even try to fantasize anything about her

And piling her hair up under her uninspiring hat

It gave the world the perfect vanilla picture she craved them to know

Nobody would expect the wildness contained therein until it was too late

Club (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t hear the person next to you even though they are shouting into your ear

Loud doesn’t start to describe the thump of the speakers

Under that audio assault, your body has no choice but to move to the beat

Becoming yet another cog in the music box machine

Poet (an acrostic poem)

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Placing emotions on a page, then folding them into intricate origami dioramas of life

Or pluck stars from the sky and plant them under mountains to grow gemstone geodes

Even distill humanity, boil off the dross, and serve up a potent shot of pure intoxication and misery

Then crumple up the whole thing, delete the file, and try again since the craft was not perfected