By Tom Zimmerman
My wife and I have had our morning romp.
I’m eating last night’s flank steak, warm and rare,
black pepper, burgundy, and rosemary
still clinging to the char.
A string quartet
(by Edgar Meyer, if you care) hums from
the stereo. The neighbors’ Sunday news
lies bagged and wet in drying driveways. Geese
We sleepwalk on a bed
of wind! Like dancing skeletons, we shoot
tequila, lick the salt, then bite a lime!
Or have we mixed the order? Childhood, death,
senility, adulthood, first kiss, birth
all jumbled like a book without a spine.
Or was this ever meant to be a book?
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His chapbook In Stereo: Thirteen Sonnets and Some Fire Music appeared from The Camel Saloon Books on Blog in 2012. Tom's website: http://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/