You know – I love
pork & beans
w/buttered bread
& grilled hot dogs
w/a bottle of
Perrier
& being dressed
to the nines
eating sushi
with a fine wine
I’m country as a
ham biscuit &
refined when the
big city calls
A renaissance man
adept at all occasions –
But I don’t leave the house
In Hiding
The butterflies
finally arrived
at their namesake bush
and the hummingbirds
their feeder
but the “Liquidator”
That infamous hitman
That atomic sniper
That blazing eye
in the sky casually
known as the sun
has me hiding inside
unable to watch either
one
Time Warp
In the silence
TV muted
Fan blades whirring
gently
Purposefully
on the other side
of the room
Alone with this
quietly consuming
unease over what
I could have done
w/the hours
now gone
A stillness
all too familiar
It could easily
be 1976 in my
little bedroom
surrounded by
books
Unrelenting Season
Summer is a heartless brute
A murderous blackguard
killing dogs and children
left in cars
Summer is the reaper
of the poor and the old
dying in puddles on
sweaty kitchen floors
Summer is the master of rage
driving people mad as they
sit stuck on sweltering
highways
Summer is death
Chicken Scratch
Nonsense
is perfect
sense
we fail to grasp
The jumbled
missives
oak trees
intuitively understand
and chickens clearly
scratch out in braille
just back of the barn
right before it rains
Grand Theater
I am the lowly understudy
to a leading man who doesn’t
have a fraction of my talent
He got all the breaks
Gets all the attention
while I watch from the wings
and that’s not the
saddest thing . . .
The leading man is
also me
Witness
I saw a poorly shaped cloud
(I tell you plainly I have seen
many greater – some even appearing
as faces!) blot out the entire sun
for several minutes today
Imagine!
Such a display!
Such brazen behavior –
on a Monday
no less!
