Sharp Tools

The old sauce renewed
each morning competes
with intention. Salt.

Missed connections
appear as stock suggestions:
“NSA playmate required.”

Clouds wink on the edge
of interior cities I felt.
The lump misplaced
in the reach of my throat.

Knowing coins I flipped

the apple indicated
overtaken by invertebrates.

Soft-Core Romance Novel

The door is open we walk through
learning a meaningful slush on our boots
recovered from the very hot winter.

How could this be? We were happy then
fishing our keys from the toilet
throwing our shoes over the wires.

Whispers shouted across the hall
to the blue cloth appearing as you bend over.
This real, manageable love, you can feel

curdling your newly pressed briefs.
Let’s recycle these cans together
in the spray-painted dumpster
by the renovated lofts.

Douglas Piccinnini lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. He was a recent resident at Art Farm in Marquette, NE and The Vermont Studio Center in Johnson, VT.