my mind has
become a city
streetmap
that started out
as nothing more
than an outpost
then became a
hamlet then
a village
the very first
settlers had a
different idea
than those who
followed; these streets
had a purpose then
that others changed
and everyone who
came to live in
my town altered
how to get
from here
to there
and now I live
in urban sprawl
in my mind
sometimes I
am not so sure
of how to get back
sometimes I
get caught in
my own rush
hour traffic
She was a witness to disaster
And emotional upheaval
She’d seen families that were torn apart
And in economic despair
There were carnal violations
There was blood upon the easel
But she didn’t seem to notice
Or she didn’t seem to care
You said happiness is a puzzle
Some unworkable conundrum
And life is never really that
What life appears to be
Love and hate and in between
Sorrow, joy or boredom
We’ll not project the paladin
And not impose our sympathy
I was sitting in a diner
You were right across the table
I was drinking coffee
You were busy with your phone
I asked if you were happy
You didn’t even answer
I thought I caught a smile from you
But I could never know
i did for you
what you wouldn’t do
for me
i shaved my chin
why don’t you
shave your legs
on spring day number thirty-seven
i remember nothing new and wing
along inside mind’s eye
to capture so to speak
a prize, a gem of introspection
one that i might share and pen
my quiet jubilation so
the cause of what i might expect is simple
seems to be neglect of all which bears
resemblance to a memory
or ample contemplation oh
now there’s a thought-
ful pause inside this realm of mine
to realize that what is not is
new when it becomes i see the
light of day beside the elm tree
fade away as bits of cotton battin’
float northeast away to shade
some other place and when
the sun comes back to me and
i beside the elm tree watch
a bird, a fly, a bee
i catch an armadillo bug beneath a
rock with seven slugs and then i
roll the little fellow as a ball
around the trash can lid
and this he does so patiently until i
smash him to the ground it’s
all she wrote for mr. bug the
fall was just too much, no parachute
like dandelions which
sail forever they can float
back down to earth or glide in
to a neighbor’s weeds I shouldn’t mind
if those weeds grow their roots
across the driveway birth is such a
lovely thing
And though I walk these fields alone
I want only to be gone
I think I hear you call my name
I think you seem so far away
And while the summer breezes blow
From seeds the roots begin to grow
I think of you
But you’re so far away
Take the passions from my past
They cloud the present story
The good times fade – the bad times last
And keep us from the glory of our lives
And though I walk this field alone
And wishing only to be gone
I think the world is still the same
I think you’re still so far away
And while the summer breezes blow
I know we reap the crops we sow
Regret the bargains that
We cut so long ago
Take the passions from my past
They cloud the present story
The good times fade – the bad times last
And keep us from the glory of our lives
We know that
Everybody has one
And we all make excuses
Every single person has
An evil friend
We also know
The day is long
And, too, the night is short
How can we ever live without
Our evil friend
We do things
That we should not do
We don’t do things we should
We struggle yet accommodate
That evil friend
We rarely challenge
And sometimes, too
We all become
Some other’s
Evil friend
‘Cause we all know that
Everybody has one
Why? We don’t quite know
But every single person has
An evil friend
so big is spring
(with a mr lenny)
so big is spring
like i see green
an’ geese
goin’ north ta breed
so big is spring
that no winter
ever
stopped its coming
it’s so relieving
it’s so damned
refreshing
so big is spring
an’ i ain’t cold
from snow
or north dakota wind
“ya don’t have ta tell me
it’s april, mr . . . i kin see”
In the streets and on the avenue
They are dancing, they are dancing
On the bridge and in the plaza
They are dancing to and fro’
“The beast is dead. They’ve killed the beast.
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
Fear no more; the beast is dead.
Let us rejoice and dance.”
“No longer shall we fear the night.
We are safe now; we are safe now.
Our cattle and our goats are safe now.
They have killed the beast.”
Alone and on the edge of town, though
A young man waited, a young man waited
He had seen the wolves beyond
The young man waited all alone.
In the town hall the council’d counseled
Great orations, long debates
“Shall we slay this threat’ning beast
Or shall we let it be?”
Townfolk talked and spoke of horror
Slaughtered calves and slaughtered lambs
Some had claimed that wolves had feasted
Though most voices blamed the beast.
Some had pondered, others wondered
“Where are the wolves? What’s happened to the wolves?”
“Just be glad,” the mayor chanted,
“Just the beast for now.”
“Save the calves and save the lambs!”
They had shouted, they had shouted
But none had died within her lifetime
One small child replied.
“Blame the beast for what?” she asked.
She was silenced, they were silenced
Even wolves are frightened by it
Some had whispered to themselves.
To the hills and to the valleys
Armed with shotguns, armed with rifles
To the forests, hills and valleys
Armed with vengeance, “Kill the beast!”
In the streets and on the avenue
They are dancing, they are dancing
On the bridge and in the plaza
They are dancing to and fro’
“The beast is dead. They’ve killed the beast.
Hallelujah, hallelujah.”
But late that night when darkness fell
The howling wolves were heard once more . . .
i caught a whiff
of spring just now
outside the school
in middle march
the breeze is brisk
but it is not cold
there is some snow
still on the ground tho’
yet by nightfall
dark will come the
colder wafts return as
winter breezes back
but in this scent
i do suspect
it won’t be long
the icy, frigid
frost-bound days
aren’t with us
curs’d no more
A thoughtless trespass
moved to piqued esteem
no harm intended, minding not
another’s deep despair
like random keys plucked
from school laptops
just to make a word
to put in his pocket
“buck up, pal” the
minor indiscretions
mean no harm
do not intend to injure
only careless words and deeds
that damage nonetheless
and so defend against this
formless threat of danger
the snide, the trite, the insincere
that brew and bubble
one day may
no longer be repaired
i once was as the morning
breaking through the night
and singing like the sun
i never reached the mid-day
never noon
my sunset rests
on someone’s dark horizon
go ahead and light those matches
you can burn them all and
all night long to keep from sleeping
short and quick
they’re tossed away
they’re only matches
i need a day
I got a wood burning kit for Christmas
one year, long ago
meant for searing names,
designs and numbers
This plug-in, electric art/craft wonder
occupied childhood time
now spent with computers
and video games
S.S. Kresge Five and Dime
sold trinkets and
affordable diversions
like birdhouse kits and bookends
And small plastic soldiers and dinosaurs
which, in early adolescence,
offered up their heads
to my wood burning kit
I kept Glenn’s bookends
the set he made for ma
with his kit many years before
they were pretty special
to ma and me
one line left
the closet running
as another line
entered singing
a simple image up
and down
again it comes
and goes
two with-
out one line
both not withstanding
one another
not tolerating
as one line leaves
is one line lost
and now returning
a simple image
up and down
and so again it comes
and goes
They met
They loved
He worked
She drank
They split
Time passed
He retired early
She dried out
More time passed
They met again
They loved again
He worked less
She drank less
They loved more
this train
this train
is costing me
my sleep
it rocks and
stops and
whistles blow and
sirens wail
connections
here connections
there in
karlsruhe and
lake geneva –
pass through france
to barcelona
oh, this train
this bane on
travel steals
my rest and
dumps me out
in spain