Laura Scheffler Morgan


…If the world knew how

the light bulb loved the socket

then we would all be better off. 

Matthew Dickman, "Love"


− Or how the needle adores the vinyl 

right all up in its groove, how the laser's crazy 

for the spinning disc, and the guitar string 

pulls at the pinch of the pick. How dark 

chocolate slyly melts in coffee, 

and darker chocolate swoons and slips 

a smoky jazz ballad to a wide-lipped 

glass of leggy red. How cinnamon heats

sweetly to a chile's bursting surge. Hot goes 

with sauce as music gets with lover.

Serving yearns for a bowl; night desires 

light. A cassette's wound tight just craving 

tape. Hell − from default − figures 

heaven's shape, the ground gazing 

skyward 'til it bows with rain, 'til dew 

reflects full spectrum. Well-rounded 

is the bowl licked clean, language 

a tongue taken with the art of circulation. 

Rock star, star player, player piano, piano 

key, key to a wholehearted heart. 

Freewheeling, love learns to link, make 

sense, see: Time's turned on by the material.