phantoms

outside-
the marquee lights
attract black moths
actors, dancers and musicians
the auditions have begun

inside-
the stage is lit
by the pallor of
gothic operatic types
posing in the balcony



fossil #55

a presley pretender
in a chariot of the chrome age
combing to the radio
luckies tucked in his t-shirt sleeve

he flashes a summer smile
with teeth like shiny dice
and makes another naughty ray ban girl
they cruise across the night



reception

martini penguins
in a buffet line
flamingoes posing
for the camera

endless toasting
ice sculpture melting

dj obnoxious spins
arrhythmic line dances
clumsy mating rituals
on into the rented night



hiding in a windmill

so easily provoked
she suddenly transforms
into an angry mob of villagers
with torches and short memories
they burn his words and feelings
to the ground, once again



vanity eternal

the poems of old men
are filled with death
as if by way of flattery
they might delay
the harvest



About the author:
Kevin Paul Miller lives in Southern California where he writes verse as well as haiku and related forms. His work has been published in Lily, Half-Drunk Muse, Modern Haiku, Heron's Nest, LYNX, Road Runner, Stylus and Full Moon. He is a member of the Tanka and Haiku Societies of America.

© 2009 Word Riot