IWarlocks sip on potent teasand wipe their hands across their knees.As Grandpa fixes whirled peas,a moustached man decries, decrees. Wait a sec, I’ve gotta sneeze—these god-forsaken allergies—might you grab a kleenex please?It’s something in this desert breeze. Outside, it’s just about to freeze.The needle sticks on thirty-three degrees.Afresh, afresh, the budding treeswill, like peaches, die … Continue reading Into Eden
Category: Poems
My Pet Computer
My humanity begins whenI treat this computer like a person. I restart it when it needs a boost.Just like using ECT to scrape gunkfrom the gutters of our brains. Or, I put it to sleep when it needs a rest,taking care to let it lieneither too long nor too often. Because, like everyone else,it needs … Continue reading My Pet Computer
Complaint at Age 26
I won’t liebut I’ll come closeto comitting a crime.Which do you prefer? Your happiness?Or, me honest but behind bars? A downfall is thatno one ever explainedwhy I should put your happiness before mine. Because you got me here?I said, “Thanks.”I send Christmas cards. Y’all tell meto enjoy lifeto have a nice weekendto do what I … Continue reading Complaint at Age 26
Triage
Put down your forcefield, sugar.
I grew my hair this way for you.
Do you see the skin of which I dreamt?
Torn to and fro, it reveals pools of co-habitation.
Supplies like bread, and soda, and diapers.
I can get these things for you — free-like.
We’ll have a hot time in the old city tonight, sugar.
For which do you care more — bourbon or gin?
Don’t spin your way out of here, not just yet.
I’ve got ways to free us from this island of dark sweat.
The canoe of opportunity, carved for me and you.
This town has never been a finer sculpture of mud and chemicals.
The skies have charmed it free of its alcoholic businessmen.
Let them comb hotel-room carpets looking for lost contact lenses.
We shall take our moldy crown in the throes of lineage, having outlasted
plaided Acadians, discombobulated Americans, and fur-trading French.
Dredge this lake, and you'll know the ways of a queen.
The Feds, the governors, the mayors:
they hold no quarter for us now.
We don't stand in line for them.
They stand in lines for us.
Restless Leg Syndrome
There really is such a thing. I have it, and tonightI can’t sleep becausemy legs are all astir. Running things through my mind—a phone call I will make tomorrow. What I’m turning downis an easy answerto hated questions:What do you do?What will you do when you graduate?Then why’d you go to law school? My legs … Continue reading Restless Leg Syndrome
Plane Over Clouds
Because of the clouds, I like flying.Plains of clouds, mountains.This plane rose until it wasjust above the cover.You can’t do that in a Cessna. The clouds dune, eddy.They make a quilt, one that’s gottentoo much use, so thatfinest soft cotton purges through. I see x’s and o’s out there,the signs of love at the end … Continue reading Plane Over Clouds
America Under Attack
This is jihad, know it?Call them bastards, Mr. Senator. Run it as a headline.It’s an assault on our lifestyle. Metal is scattered in Somerset County.Flight 11, that left Boston for Los Angeles?Only went so far as New York.Flight 77, from Washington to LA?No further than the Pentagon. Divert things to Canada.Take care not to inhale … Continue reading America Under Attack
Deflation
Hope is thefeathery, leatherydollar. Floating,dropping,slowly on the breeze. Down from Heaven,to purchase the soul.
When Matter and Antimatter Come Together
How much choice did he have when constructing the universe? Did contractors foul up his orders?Was he beset by floods and tornadoes?Did he get called in for jury duty?Did he run out money, half-way through?Did environmental permits tone him down? What was accident?What was fundamental? When his children nagged himdid he turn around to yell,"Ordinary … Continue reading When Matter and Antimatter Come Together
My Father on an Elevator With George Steinbrenner
Outside, in the slop,
horses run, glistening
with rain and sweat.
***
My father knows a guy
who has horses, a trainer,
and seats at club level.
Dad presses a button to go up,
and enters the car with three others.
Two who are bodyguards soon get off.
Now it’s just them inside, where
matter comes together with other matter.
Did Dad make bad wardrobe choices that morning?
No. Both wear sport coats, collared shirts, no ties.
Dad has on navy blue Ballys,
from his Puerto Rican honeymoon.
Got them shined at Lambert Airport,
tipped the guy a $2 bill.
But what does a Sox fan
say to The Boss in intimate quarters?
***
“I said nothing about baseball
and talked only about horses,
where he and his sister went to college—
Williams, Skidmore, etc.”
(My father a Dartmouth man himself.)
“He was very cordial.”
***
“I met a man who had
a horse running in the next race,”
he said, once home, as we played guess who.
“I asked him how his horses
were doing, but not about the failings
of his Japanese pitcher!”
JBR.com 