Here's the one I handed in to class:
Our lives intersect
at point (Jefferson Ave., Main St.)
Eyes meet, we smile
Lonely across the plane again.
And here's what I wrote for one of Josh's exercises (using a cliche to start a poem):
Simple as a knife
through white-cloud frosting,
tender, dense devil's food
another layer, clink on the plate
piece of cake.
If only I could make money off poetry. Sigh....