You enter my heart
like a millipede
with your multiple legs
and your startling speed
and your ability to make me want to scream and begin flailing indiscriminately in the hope that I accidentally crush you in the process
and you will not triumph
and you will not hurt me
and you will not crawl up my leg
in the middle of the night

I am empowered

I am worthy

I have bug spray
only $6.49
at Walmart


I found a flower
in the middle of a metaphor
and doused it in gasoline
because of my hatred for metaphors
but once I was done
I found
it had become a simile
which was worse
so now I just let
flowers be metaphors
though I grind
my teeth
as I do


Like a moth
to the flame
like a simile
in a poem
like a punch
in the face
like a horse
in its stable
like a bird
on a wire
like a neglected
bacon sandwich
like your mother
last Tuesday
I like
to watch you sleep


She walks in beauty like the night
whatever that means
as the night cannot walk
and is mostly just full of mean little people doing terrible things
so the simile sounds clever at first
but doesn’t stand up under scrutiny
yet by all means
let’s turn it into a poem
and force it on all the hapless undergraduates
who don’t really know
what a simile is anyway

Make Way

Here he comes
full of anger
like a fish forced from its mountain home
like a vanilla milkshake with a migraine
like your mother’s favourite molar
like an inconsequential hurricane
like an inappropriate simile
and it is just too bad
that he trips on a stuffed kangaroo
and it squeaks away his dignity

On Good Poems

Good poems
are as rare as diamonds
and would never be so crass
as to use diamond-based similes

Good poems
stand stoutly astride the universe
and are also quite sparing
with their metaphors

Good poems
drive good men
to scream into hurricanes:
“I am no poet!”

Good poems
will be exceedingly kind to you
and take you out to dinner
when they think you may need to talk