a crossing

black bordered

yellow diamond

your silhouetted shapes

within

drive me to look

within

myself

am i

like this diamond?

am i bordered

by blackness?

am i

yellow?

am i filled

with shapes so simple:

one large ring

followed closely

by three smaller ones?

the questions cross

my mind

the answers cross

my lips

yes

yes

a dozen times —

oh, wait

those aren't onion bagels

they're ducks

request from an onion bagel eater

you can tell me that i'm crazy

that i haven't got a clue,

or argue that i'm stupid

i won't claim that's untrue,

feel free to call me ugly

since my eyebrows are askew,

just don't say that i have bad taste

or darling, we are through

a series of revelations

well

    well

        well

what have we here?

looks like the shoe

is on the other foot

and by "shoe"

    i mean "onion"

and by "foot"

        i mean "bagel"

and by "we"

            i mean "oui"

because i'm actually

french

the darkness

the darkness sets in

not again

             i pray

but i know it's too late

my face

furious

     hot heat beyond

control

     i spring up

          i sprint forth

pulse

pounding lungs

              screaming not

enough air not

            enough time i

slide stockings                      across linoleum

mouth agape

from panting

                   no

                       from horror

                             for now

i see it

black smoke spiraling ceilingward

onion bagel burning below

i curse the

           120-volt

                  funeral pyre

                              before me

both for not

popping

when it should have

     and

for not being

powerful enough

                        to take

     my

          wretched

                        life

as well

Haiku #3

Proposed fad diet:

Don't eat meat, fruit, cheese or nuts.

Just onion bagels.

Reflections on Daughterhood

"Be wary of men bearing bagels,"

My mother would often warn me,

"Although they may make you feel thankful,

Such gifts are quite often not free."

If only my youthful ears listened

Alas! I believed I knew better,

My morals were frequently loosened

By an Xs- and Bagels-signed letter.

I'd smile for a boy serving sesames,

I'd wink at a guy wielding wheats,

Before long, men were undressing me

By baiting me with blueberry treats.

But my heart only fell for one Romeo

Who made me forget all the rest,

His sweet onion bagel aroma

Awakened true love in my breast.

In nine months I found myself natal,

And our daughter drove him away,

"Be wary of men bearing bagels,"

I oftentimes tell her today.

the impatient poet –or– perhaps it's time to update the DSM-IV

i'm sorry, doctor, but it's happening again

what is this, eleven, twelve times in a row?

i swear i'm not trying to sway this exam

i'm simply reciting the objects you show

another, now another, i can't take much more

oh please won't you finally tell me we're through?

these sessions are making me crazier than before—

that ink blot looks just like an onion bagel too!