Five Year Old Strategy

Ask a question

Even the most absurd question

Because who knows

You might get lucky

Or at least

When you ask a second question

And it isn’t

May I have a riding lawn mower or

Will you buy me

A five year old boy with one inch long hair

My own curling iron

If

You threw a big enough fit when the answer to the first question was no

You are still whimpering and gasping for breath and

You suddenly remember how to be exceedingly polite

You won’t be relying so much on luck

In, Out, And Around The Repeating Days

Blue
Berries
Yellow
Banana
Orange
Orange
Juice
Drink it up
Drink it down
With
Pancakes
Eggs
Bacon
Of the turkey
From the turkey
Tomato or potato
With burger
Veggie or beef or chicken
With
Cheese
Cheddar or Mozzarella or Vegan or
White
Chocolate
Brown
Chocolate
With
Nuts
Water
Clear
Water
Into
Wine
Drink it up
Put it down
Cook it up
With
Oil
Peanut or Canola or Sesame or Olive
In goes
Garlic
Onion
Purple
Chinese eggplant
Green
Zucchini
Asparagus
Broccoli
Red
Pepper
Orange
Pepper
Green
Pepper
White
Rice
Soy sauce
Oyster sauce
Hoisin sauce
Ginger
With
Pancakes
Veggie
White and black
Cookies and cream
Water
Rinse
Repeat
Again
And
Again
And
Again
Again

Rights

It's my right
She says
He shouts
They all proclaim
Hundreds
Thousands
Millions
We are like a mass of blind archers in a large fallow field
Shooting freely
Confidently
Completely unimpeded by all that we can't see

Christmas In February/Christmas Is February

If
On Feburary 26th
Your Christmas gift
Which never worked and had to be returned
Is finally replaced
Does
February 26th
Become a Christmas gift
Too
?

This is Love

Indeed it is a walk on a beach at sunset
The warmth of the sand on your feet
The brilliant colors dancing across the horizon and
In your eyes and
In her eyes
A moment seemingly carried out of the ether on that shifting breeze that is blowing her hair around her face and yours
But
It is also seemingly
built on a tower of shifting sands
Flowers you had delivered on a Tuesday in August
Angry words
Hushed words
Tears
A bowl of ice cream too large to eat by yourself and
Two spoons
All in there
Stacked
Mixed
Piled
Jostled
Like
Rocks and
Shells and
Bones
Tossed and jostled about by wind and rain and rocks
Over time
Over centuries
Now under your bare feet
Squishing through your toes
At this moment
This magical moment in time
Watching the sun set behind the water
Not a moment's thought on past tears, meals, or gravitational collapses of sections of large molecular clouds millions of years ago

tis but a brief respite

its fifty seven
you are vomiting and snow
is in the forecast

fifty seven degrees is not always fifty seven degrees

six months earlier
I would have dressed in layers
Now I'm wearing shorts

Stuck Inside

I wish it was not
too cold for open windows
burrito dinner

Two Weeks Before Halloween And There Is Snow In The Middle Of February

Fog

Ice

Mist

Thunder

Pouring Rain

Rainbows

With snow still on the ground

It makes me feel like 

I am at a department store a few weeks before Halloween

Standing amidst stray strands of orange lights, one or two life sized talking ghouls,

A few scarecrows, rows of artificial trees, and inflatable Santas in more poses than seem possible and

SIlently cursing whoever thinks it is s good idea to still have Halloween merchandise on the floor

Two weeks before Halloween

Tea Cup

A tea cup
With a touch of residual soy milk at the bottom
No saucer
One spoon
One soggy generic brand honey nut cheerio
Sorry
Make that
Zero soggy generic brand honey not cheerios
and
Nary a drop of soy milk
and
Still no saucer
To go with
A spoon and
A tea cup

The Loosening Grip of Winter

The snow outside my window tonight is like American power and influence

I would think it was as good as ever

If I hadn't seen it two days ago and

If 

Earlier

Before darkness and temperatures fell 

Again

I hadn't seen it and heard it

Running away

With the rain

Off the roof

Across the driveway

Down the street

If I hadn't seen it and

Didn't remember it but

My memory won't be as clear tomorrow

When I awake in the morning and

Put on my boots and

Gloves and

Hat and

My winter jacket

Both layers and

I'm still shivering

Still under its spell

Still making allowances for it

Still grimacing and grousing under its power

Still convinced

At least until

I am back inside

Wearing a t-shirt and 

Looking at Friday's forecast

Wondering when

Like each of the less remarkable winters that have come before it

This one will disappear from even

My mornings and evenings

Wondering when it will loosen its grip

Carbonated Perspective

When

My seven year old daughter

Continues to stare at me

Mouth open

Eyes wide

Even after being reassured 

That I was not joking

When I said

There are still people 

Who were alive

When 

Water fountains and

Soda fountains

Were segregated

I choose to see 

Progress 

In her bewilderment

Rather than drinking fountains

Overflowing with Coke

Discordant Parenting

I come back up to huddling and
Conspiring
Heads nearly touching
Shadows mingling
Feet shuffling
Eyes darting
Then his
Focus on me
Again
But this time he says nothing
She never takes her eyes off of him and
Never stops talking
Mumbling really and
Gesturing
But I've seen the violins watch the conductor entreating the horns
To give him more
Watching
Bow in hand
Ready
So
I know
I'm supposed to be getting this too
My angry solo now over
My wrong notes
Mostly forgotten
I'm supposed to kneel down and
Get squeezed and
Enveloped
By the huddle
By the conspiracy
By the melody
Of their live

still screwed ... in

A light bulb burned out
And broken off in your hand
The rest still screwed in

Valentine

Friday the fourteenth

A number of years ago

In September

Friday the fourteenth was the day after my birthday

Thursday the thirteenth

Neither day unlucky

But both tinged with foreboding

One the sort that strikes you when you wake up on the day of a big test

And it looks much brighter

And much more like the middle of the day

Than it should

The other is the kind of foreboding folks experience in horror movies

When they hear themselves say something like

“Sure, I’ll go see why Rob hasn’t come back yet”

Today

I’m not even mildly suspicious of what is waiting for me in the next room

And I’ve never felt more than five minutes late all day long

Today

Had candy

Cookies

And homemade cards

But no presents to open

Or play with

Or contemplate

Today

It is Friday the fourteenth

Of February

Snow Ice Cream Recipe

Milk
Two cups
Any kind
Even soy

Sugar
One third cup
Plus a free lesson on fractions

Vanilla
One Teaspoon
And everyone gets a whiff

Salt
Just a pinch
"It tastes even better now"

Waffle cones
And

Surprise
Two tablespoons or so

Snow
Eight cups
Completely buried in a bowl set outside almost twelve hours earlier

Mix

Take pictures

Eat

Don't forget the kids
Two
If you have more
Double the other ingredients

She Is

She is

Blue tights

Blue turtleneck

Blue tartan patterned headband

Khaki jumper

Today

She'll be Jeans

White socks

Non collared

Non turtleneck

Non solid colored

Shirt

Hair tied back in a pony tail

Tomorrow

At the surface

It's a snow day sea change

Beneath the surface

The change is 

Les climatic and

More climactic

I am

Jeans

She is

Something else

Something less comfortable

Now

She is

Flowered footie pajamas

The Point of No Return Is Nearing ... Bless You

I wish

The point of no return

Came on

Like a cold

As you came within range

You’d start to sniffle

Then

As it came into sight

You’re head would start to hurt

Just a little and

As you moved within shouting range

The snot would start to flow

Just a little more

Out your nose

Back down your throat

And then that feeling

The sick feeling

Would descend over you like a cloak of darkness

Right as you arrived

And you would know you were there

It would be great for making meringues and

Deciding whether or not to take a job

And right about know

I’d be wondering

Whether Sudafed

Might give me a few extra days and

Whether

A cold would be easier to handle

If you didn’t know you had it

After all

There is no cure

and it was all yellow

Red cabbage juice revealed all

Pink and it was an acid

Blue and it was a base

Vinegar was an acid

Old red wine was an acid

Baking powder was a base

Toothpaste was a base

Milk was neutral

Whether it should have been or not

Turmeric

However

Was yellow

Humans must be mostly water and

Just a little

Turmeric

life is short and so are green beans

This poem is short

Because

So is life and

Today             

Twenty minutes of mine was

Devoted to

Convincing a seven year old

To eat                      

Half a green bean

Testing The Limits

If

Testing the limits

Is an admirable trait

In a fighter pilot

Flying a supersonic jet

What about

In a five year old

Trying to get

Both

A bowl of cheerios and

A bowl of popcorn

Before

Bed

Olympic History

ice, snow, pageantry
over top of history
a big stained glass door

Little House, Big Woods, Combustion engine

If I had grown up in the little house in the big woods

With Laura

Mary

Little baby Carrie

Ma

Pa

And their good old bulldog Jack

I would never have known the smell of burning gasoline

Heavy in the cold morning air

I would have known cold morning air

Even if I didn’t recognize it

As I waved goodbye to my grandparents

From the covered wagon

Probably forever

And headed

Pots banging

Dog barking

For the prairie

But I wouldn’t have known what I was talking about

Had I tried to explain to myself what it smells like

When you walk up and down your in-laws’ ice covered driveway

Between the house and your car

Which is running

Warming up

Loading dirty clothes,

Leftover vegetable pasta, and

Jalapeno yogurt dip

Into the trunk

So that you can return to your home

Which you have to hope

Has electricity flowing into it

Once again and

Probably

Luckily for me

If I had grown up

Churning butter

Gathering honey and

Dodging bear

In and around the little house in the big woods

I wouldn’t have cared

crying in color

Crayons are scattered about on the coffee table

One coloring sheet lies upside down on the floor

The evidence of angry scribbles rising above and through the otherwise white surface 

Another sheet lies face up 

Slight crumpling visible in the lower left corner

The fairies float above the yellow and blue flowers in a hazy gray sky

Purple wings

A pink hue reaching out from the bottom of the frock

But not yet transcendent 

Like me

Standing there

Reluctant to follow the noises into the next room

Wondering

If life is 

Ever again

Quite so colorful

Watching Them Change And Grow

One hundred pieces of pasta

Counted out

One at a time

Placed in a plastic bag

Sealed up

Zipped into the backpack

Are now waiting in the front hallway

Tomorrow they’ll head out to school

When they come back

They’ll be changed

I wonder

If I’ll notice

Anything beyond chips and breaks

I sincerely hope

That

Normally

I do

I wish I could blame winter

Four inches of snow

But I am stuck here without

Proof of causation

honest prognosticator

sixty on Sunday

four to six inches Monday

he saw his shadow

The Recipe For Success

What you achieve

At the moment of your birth

Is akin

To balancing an elephant on the head of a pin

What you achieve thereafter

Is dependent on

Acknowledging

Each and every morning

That no elephant will sit on the head of a pin forever

And

On

Eating a healthy and substantial breakfast

During which

You digest that knowledge along with your

Bran flakes

And

Let

It

Pass

Right

Through

Into

The

Toilet