Tuesday, February 8, 2011


they call this place
the watch tower—
the creeper’s cove, the
voyeur’s venue

i sit and watch her
bathe in the orange
sunlight as it glimmers off of her skin

but don’t you dare define
me as a creeper,
i am simply a poet surveying

she’s painting pictures with
her eyes, watching the world
watch her;
her eyes are dancing
in the daylight—

she must be used to the attention