REBIRTH

Mindless, aimless,
devoid of harm,
somehow an amoeba
ingested me,
wrapped its protoplasmic
single cell
around my world
with one pseudo pod stroke
and stuffed me into
a vacuole
where I was maintained
with digestive acids
that burned my skin
and cleansed
with random enzymes
that floated in front
of my eyes,
my psyche reduced
to its lowest denominator,
a fraction of the computation
that was me.
I lost my arms and teeth,
my laugh and travails,
left with only a nucleus
until mitosis,
when I was born again.
with no definite shape.




MARRIED LIFE

Noise to his silence,
light to his darkness
she walks through his brain
singing
and spins melodies in his head.

He hears her small breathing
when she hides in closets
with no handles
and surprises him in the shower,
her body all soapy.

She slips in and out of beautiful
yet he sees her just the same
and sometimes wonders
how she arrived
and what might her mission be.

The years sneak by
like mice across the field,
yet she remains as unexplainable
as the underwear hanging on the line
in his basement workshop.



MICHAEL KESHIGIAN is the author of five poetry chapbooks, including Warm Summer Memories, recently published by Maverick Duck Press. His poetry has appeared in numerous national and international journals as well as many online publications, including Ascent Aspirations, Oyez Review, The Sierra Nevada College Review, Bellowing Ark, and Ibbetson Street Press. He has been the feature poet in The Aurorean, Pegasus Review, Chantarelle's Notebook and Reader's Choice in the Fairfield Review. He is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best Of The Net nominee.