Saturday, August 12, 2017

Answer to a Question no one Asked

The wave hides in the ocean
the way rain hides in the cloud,
the way wine hides in the  bottle:
darkness surrounded by a world of darkness.
The bitter stories we tell ourselves
to justify this or that behavior.
Standing ankle deep in the tide
waiting to be swallowed up
by something we can't see.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Albatross

It's not the bird, it's the sea.
It's not the sea, it's the wind
or lack thereof.
It's the way the bird
is always there
when the wind is not.
It's the way the sea
refuses to move
which makes us bitter.
And the bird is totem
for the fate we claim
controls us. The stillness
we fear and the first breath
of air it rises to meet
and announce. Which,
for all we know,
may be the last
we will ever know.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Downeast

Boat upside down
on the shore
like a house
tilting to the east.
Light enters it
like a thief
or a poor man
carrying a statue
of the baby Jesus
wrapped in an old raincoat.
This story is a thousand years old
but is being told for the first time
again.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

3 Found Poems

Found Poem: Practical Geometry


Geometry, is
that Science
which treats of
the descriptions and proportions
of magnitudes
in general.

Found Poem: A Line Is

 A point is that which has position but no magnitude nor dimensions.

A right line is length without breadth or thickness.

A mixed line is both right and curved.

A curve line continually changes its direction.

Parallel lines are always the same
perpendicular distance and they never meet
though ever so far produced.


Found Poem: An Angle Denoted

 An angle is
the inclination, or opening
of two lines, having different directions,
 and meeting in a point.

When an angle is denoted by three letters,
the middle one is the place of the angle,
and the other two denote the sides
containing that angle; thus,
let a b d be the angle,
b is the angular point,
a b and b d are
the two sides containing that angle.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Lilly

The single stalk
serves only to flaunt
the improbable

siren song color
no one could invent.
Like someone's underwear
run up a flagpole.
Someone you know.
Because you recognize

the shape and color

that the world is.
And despite
or because
of all that

the owner
of said display
shows no signs

of remorse.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

The President at 3 A.M.

Watching television.
Talking to himself.
Or to the TV.
Or both.
Eating popcorn.
Drinking scotch.
Tweeting.

While the staff
 kneels outside
at the keyhole.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Meals on Wheels

My mother drove for them for, what?
Ten or twenty years? She thought
it was her duty and would sit
and talk to her clients
about the weather, their children,
how hard it is for older people
to get around nowadays.
She would cluck and laugh
at how narrow-minded
the old black lady seemed
to the old white lady from the suburbs
doing her Christian work.
And I would pretend to not be
somehow embarrassed by both
halves of the conversation
she retold. But she did it
and never complained once
about the work or the time
it took. Which is more
than I can say for myself,
the privileged son of a privileged society,
that — even as we speak —
is turning in on itself
only to choke on the excess
it refuses to share
with the world
it has decided
is its enemy.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Press Secretary

Read my lips.
Watch them move.
Words fall out of them.
Bitter, angry words.
Don't quote me on this
but someone's going to pay.
Any more questions? If not...
Not you. You. I've never
seen such a pack of wolves.
Believe me. You'll be sorry.
And that's all
I have to say.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Unnamed Government Official

This is who I am.
That is who I was.

That was yesterday.
This is tomorrow.

Don't ask me to explain.

Do not look behind the curtain.
Do not expect reparation.

Who do you think
you are dealing with?

I told you. I am not
the man you thought I was.

I am different than that,
Better. Stronger. More sincere.

The new me would never
think of calling you

names. Or telling you
what to think.

Think about it.
Would you rather

live with  yesterday's monster
or take your chances

with what I claim
tomorrow will be?