"Half Drowned Hope"

I’m bearing your grief, dear acquaintance -
Exhaustion comes so easily,
Your tired eyes make sense to me.
Taking your cues from the soaps,
You tried to hide the rope. 

"Bloo Berries"

The apples from the apple crisp
are ears for mister potato-head,
who will try to mislead you:
He's really a melon.
His little lips are cherries,
His eyes are halved kiwi runts.

He has a friend named Coconut,

who really is one,

brown and shaggy,
hollow fleshy noggin.

His soft blue eyes
are ripe blueberries.

Mister potato-head often blushes,

Strawberry nose,

Apple crisp ears.

Coconut kept his friend's melon secret

For a number of years.

"Basketball"

Ideally, style becomes substance,

A ballet that revolves on the rim.

Triumph is only relative,

Hardwood equilibrium.

Loose limbs translate motion

Into superstitious spin,

Just past outstretched fingers,

Two points. Retreat and square your chin.