Under a Cushion

It was under a cushion after all
that searching for my soul
which I had lost
or thought I had lost

for I had felt somewhat flat of late

but under a cushion of feathers
it was—all this while
being squished by you
as together we watched

trash TV




My Passionately Tentative Affair

was mostly in my head





Snack

I'm gonna have a rice-cake, yeah!
With cashew butter, yeah!
And wholegrain mustard, yeah!
And Mrs. Patak's Brinjal Pickle.
Oh boy!



Spill

just the sound of ball bearings
ticking in a bicycle wheel
idly rotating free
on its side
crashed

its rider in the gutter there
seemingly concussed
pictures a-whirl
in his sore
battered
skull

Clive Donovan

If you have any thoughts about these poems,  Clive Donovan   would like to hear them