Dinnertime
by Sara Eisen

Shake the roaring lion off my plate
And I'll enjoy my dinner more
(and please patch the hole
where the rain pours in
it's soaking on my seat.)
The jungle fighting thick
in smart suburban kitchens
the vines just wrap themselves around normality
waiting for someone to climb them
and swing;
I look from time to time
as I pass
between the sink and the washer
and sing.

Normality
by Sara Eisen

The rosy jelly warmth
of almost happiness
is different from the thrusting pangs
of being thrilled
-- or devastated
Joy and Contentment
completely unrelated
like Acceptance and Inner Peace
the similar
degrees apart so to be polar
while opposites converge with growing speed
like terrifying hope
and cleansing nightmares
clever in my dullness
anxious in my mellow haze
grieving for an ecstasy
called me

Pane
by Sara Eisen

I'd like a window to my life
to climb out when
it got too hot
(or cold)
just a vent of open
opportunity
uncurtained
when the weather faired outside
and inside was
a little dim
(or old)
I'd hop upon
the sill with easy skill
disturbing nothing
(save, perhaps, some dust)
and deftly drop
to valleys of a time
that's filter-sunned
and rolling wide with lust
and when I'd had enough of heady insecurity
carefully, I'd climb back in
disturbing nothing
as I settled down
to find my life
back right where it had been