Used Years

I prefer new jeans to new years
You can't return new years
You can't wear them with the tags still on
Even if you match them up with a shirt that is a bit too long
They shrink
Continually
And without a single wash
I'd really prefer used years
They all last the same amount of time
Regardless of how many bangles and baubles get added
At least with jeans
Regardless of how often you crawl around on all fours
Until the knees go
You can pretend that they never will

Socialist Parenting

My son

Sometimes talks in his sleep

Right through the monitor

At me              

To me

It’s never anything I can understand but

I listen and

When it stops

I smile to myself and

For the nonexistent spy cameras

Then I go back to work and

The next morning

I make sure

To give him an extra hug

Look him straight in the eye and

Tell him I love him

For the non-existent spy cameras

For history

For God and

For posterity

His and

Mine

Talking About Flint

When you talk to your wife or

Friend

For the first time

After meeting a man

Who bears the scars of torture and abuse

Emotional, physical and

Otherwise              

Openly

Do you tell your wife

Brother 

Uncle or

Friend

Facebook or otherwise

About this guys

Wicked

Backhand 

His

Disconcerting

Ability to get right to the issue and

His 

Startling

Smile

form as function

first five syllables

then seven and a peek       

at snow, leaves, or rain

The Blurry Lines Between Fall, Winter, and Spring

No coat in the car

For trips over an hour

Rain or shine or snow

The attraction of the night

Driving at night
On the expressway
You will never see the face of another driver
truth be told
It's often hard
In little light
With your attention where it should be
On the road
On the task at hand
To see the person next to you
If there is one
To talk to them
If there is one
To think about them at all
With all those other people out there
Just headlights in the night

The smell of life

Standing in front of the live nativity

My daughter smelled 

Farm

Sheep

Goats

Cows and a donkey

Shitting as we watched

My son

Who can't stand the smell of cooked chicken

Said

All he noticed

Was

The smell of life

The truth is

Of course

That they were both right

From Christmas And Into The Gutter

A warm and rainy
Christmas Eve Eve
Eve
Has come and gone
Now we have only two eves left
Tomorrow
We'll be down to one and
Then
We'll find ourselves on
New Year's Eve
Eve
Eve
Eve
Eve
Eve
Eve
Counting down again
To the day
When
All we'll have are
Eaves-troughs
Still full of fall leaves and
Probably still bereft of snow

Packaging Doesn't Always Matter

red suit, red hat, red nose on
a dark snowless, starless night
might as well be black

Christmas Dreaming

short sleeve shirts outside
and unopened gifts inside
where I'm still dreaming

December 20th

I am December 20th
Maybe you are December 22nd
Are you
I do hope so
Because really
It is all that most of us can aspire to
Like a sports nut
Playing a sport
Any sport
At the collegiate level or
A reindeer
Being assigned a job from Santa
Even if it is only playing with kittens
Who wouldn't want to be paid to catch footballs on Sunday or
Be in line in front of Santa's sleigh
Bells ringing
Breath just visible in the dwindling light
It's not living on the moon
It's visiting and
Who wouldn't want to visit
No one
That's who but
Want it or not
I'm December 20th
Fun
Smart
Festive
Sought after
Full of hope and
Anticipation and
Always aware
Come December 21st
That I could have been
February 18th

moving beyond first impression parenting

bare feet sticking out
mom in mittens boots and hat
stroller moves briskly

the entitlement of every american

snow falls outside while

my daughter studies and oat

meal cookies bake

We The People ...

We

The

People

Wanted

Improved union

Unison

Unity

And

Sought Justice

Peace

Safety

Welfare

For right now and

The future

For us and

Everyone else

Freedom

Coming last

Unrecognizable

Responsible

Responsibility

Liberty

After all

We were

Not

A Person

We were

The

People

Freedom

Freedom

To speak

To worship

To assemble

To vote

To starve

To remain ignorant

To hate

To leave

To be

You

And

Me

White and Red Christmas

It's mid December and

The snow is accumulating outside as fast as the

Expenses on my spreadsheet 

All signs point to a 

White

and

Red

Christmas

blind faith, kids, and winter

Eyes closed and tongue out

Nothing within range is safe

Except the snowflakes

Protected Speech

Expression is inherently partial
Unfinished
Inadequate
Often public and
Seemingly always prone to feedback
I mused
As I drew in crayon on my paper place mat at the cocoa diner
I reflected
As I watched multiple three
Four and
Five year olds
Tear around the lobby
At eleven at night
Only one wearing polka dots
Which takes courage if you are over the age of eleven
But before eleven
Is protected speech

Tis' The Season of Excess ... No Quarter For The Weary

There's a quarter on my desk
With less than two weeks until Christmas
It's a dead George walking
Out

relax and get overwhelmed with the rest of us

We don’t have to leave for ten minutes

That’s one trip to the bathroom for everyone and

Two for your grandaughter

Including a four minute handwahsing session including tears

Because she thinks she’ll be left behind

It’s also one complete wardrobe change and hair brushing nightmare

Complete with screams and tears

And a tour of the Christmas decorations and

His birthday gifts

Again

Plus there are dishes to do

Basketball scores to check

Fried potatoes to taste and

Doublehceking of the time of the holiday concert

Yet to do

So …

Take off your jacket and

Stay a while or

Twelve minutes

Or so

Snow Days and Tomorrows

I was staring at my kids
Through a slowly growing hole in the ice on the windshield
Whose receding I was facilitating
However haphazardly
Pain beginning to radiate inwards
From my fingertips
When the windshield wiper buckled
Leaving half of it dangling like the broken wing of a bird
Cowering in anticipation of the words of some distinguished gentleman
With a British accent
Proclaiming that the end had come and
Indeed there was little doubt that the end had come
That
The
Snow
Day
Was
Over

Evidence of a failure in religious education

Jesus’ mom was Mary

His dad was Joseph

He had no electricity

No model trains and

Was nailed to a t and

Died and

Now we celebrate his birthday

Merry Christmas

Winter Warfare

Only sporadic

Clumps of snow fight on waiting

For reinforcements

Ruminations on 75%

Some day far in the future

When I am looking back to this December

December 2013

Sitting in Adirondack chairs on the back porch with

Grama

I wonder if it will feel like I am star gazing with a

Telascope 

Or looking down on another planet from the

Space Suttle 

Or strolling through a

Museim

I think I’ve been to before in a city like

Richmund

That I am quite certain I've never been to

Or maybe It will feel just like it does now

As if I am standing on the 54^th parallel and

Trying to get over the fact

That it is all

Corea

This day

Can I move my new drum set up to my room
This day
Can I shovel the driveway
This day
Will we have candy
This day
This day
Will I be going to school
Did we have cupcakes
This day
This day
Will we see Grandma and Granddaddy
This day
This moment
This second
Right now
This day

Sometimes, Wet Is Just Wet

Parking cars in the cold rain
To earn volunteer hours at your daughter's private school
Feels a lot like
Parking cars in the cold rain
To earn volunteer hours at your daughter's private school
Coming home to a warm shower and a cup of hot chocolate
Lovingly prepared by your wife
Feels a lot like
Coming home to a warm shower and a cup of hot chocolate
Lovingly prepared by your wife
Sometimes I see the metaphors, similes, and analogies so clearly
That I can feel the spray in my face as
I cut across a perfect blue sea and
In front of a perfect blue sky
On my way around the world
On a forty foot sloop and
My muscles tense up at
The sound of pterodactyl screeches
But tonight
I felt cold rain
Pushed cars out of the mud and
Smiled as
I sipped out of my handmade earthenware mug of hot cocoa
Sometimes
Wet
Is
Just
Wet

The Seasons of Nelson Mandela

dying in winter
in prison throughout summer
sprang and fell ahead

limits

now I’m wearing socks

from sun up until sundown

but never at night

Nothing But Numbers

Twenty nine

Thirty two

Zero

One

Two

Zero

Three

One

Four

Two

Five

Three

Six

Four

Seven

Five

Thirty Six

Forty

Thirty Seven

Birthdays Dancing Through My Fingers

The cupcakes form a five
No two adjacent cupcakes burdened
With one of five candles lit
Illuminating the face of the
Five year old
Who was clearly the
Three year old
That sat in that same spot
Two years ago and
May have been
The one year old who
In that very same spot
Tried to catch hold of the flame
From his one candle and
May have earned that
No matter how many or
How few
Cakes and
Candles
You have
You can't grab hold and
Never let go

Five Years Later

Five years ago
About this time
I settled in
To mostly sleep through what was to be
My very last night
As the parent of one child
Thinking that I knew fully what was coming
Just not when
Which
Except for irritation at having garbage bags under the sheets and
A body pillow jammed into my back
Could explain my mindset
Right at this
Moment
Five years later

Blame the Moon

Inflatables on the shelves at Lowes

Before Halloween

Christmas Carols on the radio

Before November is over

Hanukkah nearly half over

Before school returns to full swing after Thanksgiving

The holidays are turning into

A cheap and

Barely sanitary

All you can eat buffet

Where you come just before eleven and

Stay till close
If I get indigestion

I guess I should blame the moon

Heavy Wind And UPS Failures

When the Christmas tree blows down
Before the lighting ceremony
That's got to be a lot like
Having your kids gift
The one they have been asking for ever since you didn't get it for them last year
Not arrive on time for their birthday
Except
As I stand looking at a 15 foot deciduous tree covered with lights
I can't imagine
Ever getting away with presenting
A bucket
In the place of a drum set

Thanksgiving's Tail End

Pie of the pumpkin
Pie of the apple
Pudding of the banana
Celebration of the Thanksgiving
To an end
Does come

Order Restored

My sister moves the chair up a foot and a half

So she can sit closer to the laptop

Which is perched at the edge of the coffee table

Apparently

Though

In so doing

She has thrown off the balance of the whole room

But

Since the interior director already had his stroke

And

Legos and Hot Wheels are scattered indiscriminately about

I’ll just move myself

My laptop

And the wicker bottomed stool underneath me

A smidge

Or two

To the left

And

Restore

Order

young bones welcome winter

sliding on pavement
even onto his backside
laughing all the time

a wet ass and the absence of dis-ingenuity

Crying

Naked 

Wet and

Clinging precariously to me

Me

Who was dry and calm

But now is trying frantically 

To get a reassuring grip 

On a very small and

Definitely damp

Little ass

It smacks of a usually far away primitive people being visited by a television chef 

Who eats monkey brains cooked in cow dung over an open fire and

Smiles and

Nods and

Seems both 

Enticed and

Grateful

Until he and the camera man sneak around the corner of a hut and

Laugh and gag in hushed tones

Except of course

There is nowhere to hide from a wet ass

going home

eleven hours
blowing snow and endless roads
left at the doorstep

Permanence

A river

A lake

An ocean

Even water from the sky

That has yet to find its new temporary accommodations

Mark a line

On the walls of your

House

Like teenagers do with pocket knives on the trees in the local state park

You erase the marks

The initials written over double hearts

With the languid carelessness of a squirrel preparing for winter

New walls

New floors

New paint

Channels to redirect

The river

Lake

Ocean

Even the water from the sky

Should the whim move it

To return

To a spot it hadn’t been to in years

To renew and venerate connections

Muck like F.C. and C.B.

In the woods

On a perfect summer day

With not a cloud in the sky

Freeze

Freeze

That’s what I want to say from the front seat

So that I can take all my attention away from the

Chevy’s

Honda’s

Ford’s

Jeep’s

Toyotas

Red

Blue

Black and

Mostly white

It’s the white ones I can see in my mind’s eye

Them and

 The Dunkin Donuts and

 The Dairy Delite and

 I’m not interested in seeing any of them

Then or

Now

And I want the radio to stop too

No more Katy Perry

I want to be able to turn around and watch her face

Immediately after I reach behind me and give her hand a squeeze

Immediately

Before she reciprocates and

She always reciprocates

Almost automatically

But not quite

It’s a delayed twitch

And it’s delayed

Because first she has a natural reaction

Her whole little body relaxes

She smiles

Just a little

No teeth

No laughter

No hysteria

Just a slight upturn of her lips and

A different look in her eye

And then it’s gone

Always

Before I can appreciate it or

Even be sure it was really there

Amongst the Accords

Sierras

Coffee and

Ice Cream

Before

I can focus my powers and

Make everything

Freeze

The benefits of being a woodchuck, chipmunk, or bat

forty-eight degrees

in four months it will feel balmy

now it's time for bed

Dinosaur Duds

I’m like a milk dud a few days after Halloween

Classic

Sweet

Perhaps aptly named but

Considerably better than nothing and

Even in an overflowing plastic pumpkin with a seemingly endless selection

Not a bad choice

Kind of like a hadrosaur

Given a choice

Who wouldn’t prefer a raptor or a pterosaur

But Now

Sixty million years or so later

The hadrosaur doesn’t seem like so much of a dud

I have A Difficult Tree

I wonder about the tree at the end of my block

It seems like its been a month or more

Since it lost its leaves and

I don’t remember much in the way of

Yellow

Red or

Orange

Before the branches went bare or

Mostly bare

A few leaves still cling in the upper reaches and

Are still green

Although more lime than kelly or forest and

A bit bedraggled

More Cleveland than Pittsburgh but

Not quite Detroit and

Without bankruptcy or angry creditors

Who knows how long they can hang on

I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes new leaves next Spring to push them out

The tree seems to be in active denial

As long as on leaf still hangs on

No matter how empty the branch

The long winter has not set in and

Rebirth is not necessary

I wonder if it were a boy

Whether it would eat its vegetables

Colder Temperatures

The weather finally seems to be turning cold

For more than a few days

Which with a little more than a week to go to Thanksgiving

Should be remarkable and

Wonderful

Especially for me

Who has been planning our next move

Since right after we signed the mortgage papers and

Is always planning the next vacation

From the beach and

Has a garage and

House

Filled with

Boots

Gloves

Coats

Hats

Sleds and

Kids

But

I still remember

An afternoon of dodge ball

At a friend’s house

That I drove to and

I still remember

Feeling

As I always did

That the last game of dodge ball

Was just as much fun as the first game

Which was how I felt

Pulling my son around the block in his wagon

Rather than watching him ride his bike and

Sporting short sleeves

Rather than my fleece

Which is hanging in my closet

More ready than I am

For colder weather and

Tomorrow morning

Turning Over Old Leaves

It’s calm now, but high

Winds arrive early morning

I’m not done raking

My life as art

An unfinished toucan is watching me

Out of one eye

One green eye

Joined to an orange beak and

Surrounded by pink

Blue

Green

Red

Yellow and

White

Feathers and

It’s the white feathers which catch my eye

My brown eye

Set off by my reddish brown hair and

My yellow shirt and

Lots of white

The toucan and I have a certain simpatico

Here at my desk as we both wait

For the seven year old artist in residence

To finish coloring us in

Of the unknown and the familiar

When heading into the unknown

Be it a hallway at his sister’s school or

The cleaning aisle at the Shop Rite or

Watching snowboarders hurl themselves down craggy mountain sides while we eat lunch

He asks for my hand and

I give it because

Nearly every day

I myself

Feel like a five year old

Walking through a downward sloping hallway

Past pictures and dioramas and

Lots of doors

Keeping my head o a swivel and

My eyes open

Ready to see a familiar face

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Twenty minutes until we have to be headed out the door

No one has eaten breakfast

My daughter's hair needs to brushed as she screams bloody murder and

Then something has to be done with hair bands

I have to at least run some water over my body and

Put some clothes on that don’t make me look like a threat to the safety of school children

One lunch has to be made and packed

Both backpacks need to be checked and put in the car

The appropriate jackets have to be selected and

The kids have to be talked into seeing the necessity of wearing them

Footwear must be selected and fitted and secured

Teeth must be brushed and

The naked boy

Who is dancing around in front of me

As I attempt to put underwear over his feet and up his legs

Needs to be dressed

Which is why I clenched my teeth and screamed

He was hoping to sit down with his metal lunchbox and

Extract his stuffed dog and his stuffed turtle’s blanket

Which is why he said

Screaming at underwear really doesn’t help anything

Discipline: Lather, Rinse, and Repeat

On my knees

My hands on his shoulders

My eyes on his

His eyes on the ground

Our voices soft

And in total agreement

We hug

We kiss

We zerbert

We laugh

We silently agree to do it all again soon

Rakes and Responsibilities

A few snowflakes were in the air this morning

The very first few

Setting off dreams of

Four foot drifts and

Nightmares of a lawn and

A driveway

Full of leaves

Covered in snow

Probably about six inches but

That’s the difference between Four and

Forty

Sleds and snow angels

Versus

Rakes and responsibilities

Parental Perspective

Kids upstairs screaming

I pause before going up

To clean up some leaves

Turkey shoots and freedom

My daughter and son
Like their father
Do not know turkey shoots
Annual or otherwise
Won't spend much time watching a fishing pole
Stuck in a plastic tube on the beach
Won't ever sit on my lap
Whilst I drive the tractor
Surveying our corn
Land
Town
Work
Lives
Freedom
Or
The boundaries of our world

Chincoteague Wild Ponies and Green Grass

Hey horses 

I've got news for you
Wild ponies
Are horses too
Just like you

Only they are a long ways away from humans
Who inexplicably stand in large groups
Staring at them through binoculars and 

Taking lots of pictures of them
While they stand in a swamp
Albeit
A a swamp of a particularly vibrant green

Check Mate

You know that old ram
The one from the nature documentary
That was injured in a fight during rut
Cornered in a freezing cold river
And eaten by a pack of hungry wolves
Well someday buddy
That will be you
And me
Minus
The freedom
Any possibility of booty
And the privilege of recognizing check mate

Why I Stay Up Late Every Night

Almost every night

As the next day hangs threateningly over the one I am in

I sit in front of the computer

Typing

Searching

Reading

Imagining

Like a ghost hunter

In the waning hours of a fruitless search

For something

No one

Really believes in and

Only I

Want to

Debt

once a month we sweat
even now as the leaves fall
to the last dollar

Driveway Fly Fishing

I’ve never been fly fishing

But I can only imagine

That when you are standing in the water

Slicing through the air with the fly rod

Almost dancing

With rod, fly, and fish

It must be a lot like almost dancing with my son

Yesterday

On the sloping grass next to our crumbling driveway

Whatever catchy but vacuous top 40 song that happens to be on

Flowing out of the open car door and

Picking me up as

I pick him up and spin him around

Slicing through the previsoulsy quiet and still air

Hoping for what happened today

Hoping for the request

To do it again

Hoping for a catch

He's A Hands On Kid

His hot little hand is on my shoulder

His voice is its usuall high pitch and high and

Still earnest but

Unusually soft and quiet

I am staring at the computer screen

Looking at the zoomed in close up of

A meticulousy crafted

True to life and

Fully functioning scale model of

Some piece of farm machinery

That I will never in my life be able to accurately identify but

I still feel his eyes looking at me and

In a daze

I answer yes

Coming to soon enough to try to put a bit of a break on his expectations

He doesn’t argue

Not this time

He just puts his hot little hand back up on my shoulder

Barely Keeping Up With All That Falls Down

Trash can lids flying

Leaves and twigs and branches too

Put lid back on can

Continuity Despite Seasonal Change

Shooting yesterday

At airport terminal three

Sun’s up today, later

Bovine Dreams and Urban Legends ... Or ... Let Sleeping Cows Lie

She is a cow apart

At least a dozen are asleep on their feet under a live oak tree

Huddled close in the cool night air

She is a good fifty yards away

Close to the fence

Legs twitching just a bit

Like a dog chasing a squirrel while sleeping

Or a cow sensing someone approach while she sleeps

And trying to run away

Trying

But not doing

Though she is moving now

Just the slightest bit

Revealed in her markings

Markings just like a cow costume

The black blending into the background on a starless night

Like their clothes probably does

The white just a lighter bit of dark

But enough lighter

To reveal ripples on her left

Probably starting on her right

Where she can almost feel the hands pushing

Harder

As the ripples increase

As does the leg twitching

And then she starts listing

Like in the black and white titanic themed nightmare

Of someone about to leave on a two week north Atlantic cruise

Except the iceberg isn’t larger than the boat

Above or below the water

And it isn’t white

Standing there as

Slowly she goes over

Landing with a soft thud

But failing to drop beneath the surface

Then her eyes snap open

And she is lying in the wet grass underneath that live oak with all the others

Illuminated in the light of sun rising up over the hills

What Goes Unsaid on Halloween Night

With
Two gallon size ziplock bags full of candy
Per child
Laying on the carpet
In front of all of us
The honest questions
Regardles of which one of us is asking
Are
Rarely Asked
Out loud

Halloween Treat

He is an ice cream cone for Halloween

He can hardly walk in the costume and

Has to choose between holding the cone up

Or tripping and falling flat on his face

So as we walk along                        

I will hold on tight to the vanilla ice cream

With sprinkles

He will say

Trick or

Treat

The Difference A Decade Makes

Inane pop song blasting out of the car

Parked in the driveway

Everyone out

Doors open

Her brother and I dancing

Swinging

Crunching

Stomping

On a clear and brisk fall day

My eyes on her eyes

In between rolls

Eye rolls

Hers

Mine

Hers

Mine

Despite the screaming that prompted the loud music

She is smiling

And that makes all the difference

Between

Seven and

Seventeen

Of Cancer and The Limits of Stain Cleaner

Not like the
Ketchup
Paint
Even blood
Soaked into the fabric of a shirt
That you first see with a sense of foreboding
The history of that top flashing through your mind's eye
Did she wear it on her second day of school
Was he wearing it when he first rode the bike out of sight around the corner
Was he wearing it when its sky blue hues made his eyes look like his mothers'
Will she ever wear it again
And then view with a sense of defiance
Magic bottle in your hand
Overindulgence typical of the me generation in your heart
Eagerly spraying
Rubbing
Working
Fighting
And then waiting
Biting fingernails
Hoping
At least
For progress
And justification for more
Spraying
Rubbing
Soaking
Sitting
Fighting
Until
Victory
Or tears
Or preferably both
And if not
A trip to buy a new top
No
It's not like that at all
It's a grass stain
A little old garden variety grass stain
That starts coming out as soon as you spray it
You have to know
Believe
That it is always just a grass stain

Inside a Meander

A meandering river
Splitting
Forking
Joining
Rejoining
Feeding lakes and reservoirs
From 20,000 feet
It's beautiful
Cutting through the patchwork quilt of farmland
A thread of a different color
Up close
I imagine
It is beautiful
Though less quilt and more thread
But in it
Well
I would guess the beauty is
Exhausting
Enveloping
And still
despite every attempt, hope, and wish
Meandering

Seasonal Conquest

vacant a moment
then red yellow orange return
occupying force

Autumn Arrival

Boarding by myself
Feeling a chill in the air
Inside and outside

Next

479

Clean it up

468

Take out an experience

453

Wonder what experience is worth only fisteen words

Feed the cat

Trim away some adjectives

425

Think a whilke about how wonderful adjectives are

List the best adjectives of all time

Check tomorrows weather and

Come up with adjectives to describe it

Reword the second paragraph

401

Feed the cat

Get a drink of water but

Not too much

A tight bladder neck is an unforgiving mistress

Take out all the references to the “two” kids

395

Strum quietly on the desk

395

Clear throat

Watch a video of the Burlington Zephyr streamliner train from 1934

Streamline each and every paragraph

Cross your fingers

364

Cry

Combine sentences

342

Smile a bit

Feed the cat

Pee

Make that conclusion really really brief

321

Watch Lil Wayne videos

Wonder whether that look would work for a forty year old white man

Go gangsta on each and every paragraph

299

Go to the next essay

Female Seahorses

Male sea horses carry the eggs

Maybe over 2,000 of them

In a pouch

And he stays put

Anchored to the bottom of the ocean

While his mate runs around all over the place

Returning for a few minutes every day

Probably with instructions and

Then depositing more eggs as soon as the last load of babies is off into the world

At least that’s how it usually is

I wonder what happens if the female wants to stay home with the eggs

Is that OK with the neighbors

If her in laws were to stop over

Together

And recognize him

Or her

Would they help her come up with a workable pouch of her own

Or would they make their disapproval clear

With tail gestures and snide remarks

Muttering under their breath the whole time about how

Male sea horses are supposed to carry the eggs

Hoping To Be Twisted and Tangled

The fear is

Too much separation

Like parallel twister

Unbalanced

Tangled

Twisted

Playing the same game

But when one falls down

Maybe just one falls down

Not tangled

Up

Not twisted

Up

Maybe

Maybe not

But

In the midst of

Packing lunches

Grading papers

Writing reports

Talking to friends

Checking scores

Sewing on girl scout patches

Apple picking

Race running

Day tripping

Boating and

Who knows what else

Possible

I’m afraid

Happy Birthday

The identical red lids placed one on top of another

Behind the containers

In several stacks according to their size

Clean

Neat

Efficient

In the cupboard

In the refrigerator

Even in the dishwasher

And

I can’t help thinking

The perfect place

To put a fruit bread or a coffee cake

After its been received

Sliced

Sampled for show and

Gratitude and

Now must be stowed away

So the evidence can be swept up and under and

Be hermetically sealed

Underneath a red lid

It doesn’t matter which one

Greetings of the Day

Good morning

How did you sleep

Thanks for letting us intrude

Hi

Good to see you

Nice to meet you

Hello there

Look at you

Hey, who is this

I’m back

Hey there

Good afternoon

Where is the Girl Scout

There you are, how was it

Hey, thanks

Another Saturday?

A legitimate and unassisted goal

Tears shed over mud and dirt

Repeatedly

A fight over whether breakfast was early enough

Cat complaints lodged every five minutes starting at six thirty in the morning

A fifty minute movie on Raccoons

Oatmeal cookie pancakes accented with maple syrup

Lots of maple syrup

Someone still awake over an hour after the lights went out and the door was shut

Singing coming through the baby monitor

Loud and clear

An argument over whether the wallet that came with a used black purse purchased at a consignment sale was sold with it whenever and wherever it was first sold to an unsuspecting public

Nap

Whining over whether one game of Scrambled States was enough

Roller shoes at Target

Bacon

For the second week in a row

That was not crisp enough

An hour spent carefully arranging hosta and liriope

Family story read about ten minutes later than it should have been

About a food chain

In the forests of Pennsylvania

Deer

Vampire bats

Red tailed hawks

Cat sitting on my chest crying for dinner

Popcorn and a movie on a futon

A question

Dad did we win

?

Purse

A zipper is broken and

It had half a dozen maxi pads in it

But it also came with a little wallet

A mirror

A working strap and

It clips shut

So

For a dollar

It was the perfect way

To insure forty five minutes

Of worry free shopping

At my favorite consignment sale and

A successful

Father son

Outing

Still

Clothes in the washer

Still

The fish in his little tank

Still

I think

It’s hard to tell through the cloudy brown water

Especially with the tank obscured by the dirty dishes piled in front of it

The clean ones in the dish washer

Still

The kids upstairs screaming at each other

Still

The cat rubbing up against my legs and meowing

Plaintively

Still

Breakfast cereal and lunch dishes on the table

Still

The newspaper out by the sidewalk

In its little yellow plastic bag

Still

Dinner unmade

Still

The stain in the carpet

The result of standing on a dry eraser board eraser and

Grinding it in

There

Still

Me

In t-shirt and jeans

In the middle of the kitchen

Eyes closed

Quiet

Still

Coffee Shop

Within four walls

With the windows closed

The shades drawn

The phones off

The computers off

Everyone off somewhere else and

Cotton in our ears

Anything is possible and

Every idea makes sense and

Deserves equal airtime

Which is why

Folks need to spend more time in coffee shops

Amtrack

Stand behind the Yellow Line

Did you go to the University of Maryland

Yeah

I saw your sweatshirt

My best friend went there

What year

                    

Mind the Gap

So, you went to high school in Princeton

No West Windsor

Stand clear of the doors

What was your major

Art

Yeah, I guessed that

Really … was it my back pack

Yeah

Quiet ride

Excuse me

But I couldn’t help but overhearing your conversation

My girlfriend has a lot of money too and

The same attitude

I have the money

Stop

I run my own business

Started it when I was fifteen

Elizabeth

I was on One Life to Live for two years

I gave it up to come back here

For her and

Then she got engaged to my best friend

Wrong way

I’m trying to bring Miami up here

Mail

Last night I had Italian wine

Kline

A certain percentage of sangiovese grapes

Airport next

Budweiser

It happened when I was nine

Really

Yeah

So what

Brain surgery

Check cashing

I have a business mind

Airport

You’re selling your business

I’m selling myself

Best Western

It’s crazy

You’ve really got to be a whore

I don’t know where that is

It’s just around the corner from the gas station

I see so much potential in you guys

Amtrack

Christopher Columbus Discovers the Hippopotamus

The second time he saw the hippopotamus

I saw it too

The first time I told him it was a rock

There might actually have been rocks on the beach when Columbus landed on San Salvador

Do you know that there still isn’t complete agreement

As to which island is the one

Columbus called San Salvador

On October 12, 1492

The folks on Watlings Island changed their name

To San Sakvador

To help eliminate the controversy

To restore focus where they wanted it

Where it needed to be

Which was why

That second time

I saw the hippopotamus

Stopping to Laugh at the Flowers

I walk with jets

I walk with jest

Friday night

Pushed along the streets of New York City

By the six o’clock crowds and

Muscle memory

It was the former

But it’s helpful for me to remember

That it takes only a simple switch

To accomplish the latter

Bottom of the Ninth

Falling

Always falling

Arms by your side

Arms straight out

Eyes open

Eyes shut

Asleep

Awake

Smiling

Scowling

Yelling

Quiet

Accepting

In denial

Certain

Uncertain

Still awake at 11:56 watching baseball for the first time in at least a year

Falling

Always falling

Tomorrow Morning's Outfit

Capris in khaki
Long sleeve collared shirt in black
Morning in waiting

Chimpanzee

If I was a chimpanzee

Sitting on a branch

Eating mites out of the fur on my friends head

Talking politics in between nibbles

Whatever the topic

I would end up talking about critical thinking and

Logic and

Reason and

Process and

Later

When I was with the dominant female

(If I’m a chimp I’m running things

I only accept my lowly position

because I’m up so high on the evolutionary ladder)

So I would be with the dominant female and

When I was

I would complain about how my mite eating friend always comes back to

The overreaching done by liberals with the Civil Rights Act

And the next day

Again

Would be about

Mites

Civil rights

Critical thinking and

Where we could get some good monkey

If I was a chimpanzee

Fall?

Not quite seventy

Mostly green leaves falling

It is almost right

Parenting Glamour

Center stage

At the middle of the chaos

Is the switching engine

Setting up the homework to be done and

Filing it away in the yellow folder and filing the yellow folder away in her backpack

Bringing in the mail and the thank you notes hand delivered in school cubbies and

Shifting the neighbors mail into the neighbors mailbox

Washing the applesauce out of the lunchbag and

Putting in the tiny tupperware filled with yogurt and securely closed

Removing the guineapigs dish containing one small turd and

Exchanging it for one containing two baby carrots, three grape halves, and a bunch of parsely

Taking a full baldder and

Facilitating its emptying

Trading

Swapping

Replacing

Substituting

Bartering

Switching

Not in the glamourous way from history and adopted memory

No steam

No smoke

Just a diesel switcher in a gray and dirty freightyard

It’s 2013

Glamour is cancerous

Chaos is timeless

Symmetry in Absence

Three plates

White with blue borders

Two small

One big

Three simple stainless steel forks

Two small

One big

One hand glazed black and blue bowl of brussels sprouts

All for me

Leftover macaroni and cheese

All for them

All eaten on

Three white plates with blue borders

Many Roads

Everything diverges

One

Moment

At

A

Time

Un-natural

Words on a screen

After

A six hour plane ride

Across

A three hour difference

Almost

A whole country away

They fall through the sky

From the sky

In place of the leaves

On this

The fifth day of October

In the year two thousand thirteen

In the still over seventy degree night

In the quiet house

Where I alone am awake

But not alone

Jihad

I am struggling

To have you listen to my

Words

And not your own

Fears

Bonobo

If a bonobo could speak

What would it do with its credit cards

Drivers license

Proof of Insurance and

Money

That first fall after buying a new smart phone

Would a Bonobo shove its phone and wallet into one pocket and

It’s keys into another

Hoping that it wasn’t doing permanent damage to nerves in the leg

Or its nut sack

Do bonobo’s have nut sacks that would be problematic in a pair of jeans

If it didn’t have jeans

Would a money clip be the only way to go

For a bonobo that had conquered speech

And where would it put it

No

A bonobo is better off where it is

Dazzling us more advanced creatures

With its mastery of signs and symbols

A One Floor Future

I walk up and down stairs all day

Delivering

Cleaning

Reconfiguring

Scolding

Helping

Finding

Answering

Questioning

Wiping

Dressing

Making

Remaking

Imagining

Inventing

Fixing

Rhyming

Reading

Running

Because

Someday

No one will want me to and

I’ll live in a ranch house anyway