Upon Listening to Jazz Piano Mimic My Progressions
by Michelle Collotta

Pity
In a dream of waking,
I ache too slow-
The cherries have already popped
off branches like birth.

Retribution
A boy has let my phone number
fade in his jeans pocket
like a long winter's washing.
I am freezer burned-
a clam openfaced without glaze.

Fear
A man with eyes, north star blue,
has called from the ground level.
In his grip, he holds craving like a prosthesis.
I am alone on these nights,
when camelbacked, I trot
to where voices turn to syrup.

Criticism
I have loved you with sighing fists
and a mouth as useless as a stretched earthworm.
I have loved you in a slow howl,
where the rump of Easter fuses with Christmas.
I have loved you on the black keys,
a recitial of violent spanking and fingers breaking backward-
a coma of loud slams,
my eyes biting,
my foot steering sound.