September 14, 2019


It went

That after horrible or violent events,

As a cruel way to vent too serious grief

& to take the pressure off some,

Dark jokes will soon surface. Then spread.

To workplaces, as casual talk, yes,

Plus, throughout campuses.

Though not through the usual mediums, this time./


I find it kinda funny when odd fears are realized

By the armed

Violence enablers,

Hoarding their hidden caches of


When the same crack team

Of govt.-trained troups

So successful far from home

Do go door to door At home,

Search warrant OK’d by presidential decree,

To go in, and go under underwear drawers,

Rifling for rifles;

Masturbatory safe dolls. Icons, even./


But at a time before that time,

We’ll drop by the plush residences

Of our adopted Representatives,

Pay ’em a visit,


Nothing melodramatic

Tight white shirts so they know

We’re carrying a friend.

We’ll mention

That though a lot of commerce has come,

A lot of exchanges, agreed & understood,

This time there’ll be no threat of voter retribution,

This time they just might do the right thing.

We’ll mention how wrong decisions

Made  might mean

Not seeing

One’s big boat, or golf clubs,

Or mistress, or ” Rainy Day” fund

Tomorrow, or even ever again./


Then, these same guns that this time surely helped ensure

A democracy we could live with,

Would go with the rest.



.Half a laugh I guess.


September 6, 2019

               L I L T

Sweeter than the precious tiny

Melodic Asian lilt,

That child-waitress,

Specific question still

Asked periodically at our table,

(she has

cool bangs & horn-rimmed glasses)

& ”Hot tea?”

She surely should be in school

But she’s all the family business has

To talk to the customers

In their native language.

“Hot tea?” Forever memorable.

Sweeter than that

When you thankfully then

Lean closer again

In yr. achingly fetching


(yr. bangs cooler)

I watch yr. lips & hear

“Tea, Dear?”














All my thanx to sunni for forever encouraging me to dream/ i LOVE YOU


April 19, 2019

Blackened breezes rustle
Sacred/ olive trees, skies muscled thick.
I took a sight that set me more lost
More sour than seasick.
I see him, knees bloodied,
Face drawn/ down
to earth.
I was being/ once/
Just a man also.
I spied/ by my back down
To my murk/
I cried/ by my own shadow,
But did not cry out,
To interrupt all that too intimate.




When I was a young/ more willful man,
I fasted/ from dawn friday
Until the last of easter/ Today
I’m past that/ I take the families
To the best italian place,
For sacrificial lamb & blood red wine
& all before that, maybe grace.






April 17, 2019

“The thick leaves in my murmur/ Are rustling like a dream/ And all their myriad voices/ Instinct with spirit seem”        Emily Bronte, from “The Night Wind”






I’m half-Hale & a Hardy old man.

Yet I have one world  of failings,

Yet  universal   ‘elan.     


The endgame  is a sight closer

I can only see it  now

Like the woods across the street, Close,

Like one worn path for the woods.

Noir Morning

April 13, 2019

Change & keys upon a bureau corner

Can’t be far from boots and his trousers

Low volume all night tv tells murder stories

Some are unsolved like this week I’ve been havin’

I could get my car back if the garage is open

My fuckin’ phone got lost in a downtown without pity

I’ll maybe get another once I am way  down the road

Some contacts, all the music won’t be easily replaced

I can chalk it up to “Oh Well”.  Sunday’s almost come


January 31, 2019

Will a quilt that drapes,

Dramatically,  one  wicker

Adirondack  chair,

Drape  me?



Will a qualified straight-shooter, finally,

Dramatically, shooting his or her mouth off,

Try  to  be  fair,

Capturing   me?


January 21, 2019



If   he’s  truly  gone

He fell from a tree

Night-vision just finally darkened black

That might happen, if  it’s  true,

When he would move forward to a new branch


I found an opossum  on my lawn

& if he’s truly gone

His  odd  defense

Odd  Lazarus  gifts

Of cessation, resurrection.

Odd mask of death  did drop?

We’d ask if his time was up.


Give  him  a  kick

“Wake  up”

“Those bells’ve been ringing now for years/Someday I’ll give it all away/That’s how you sing Amazing Grace” -LOW, from “Amazing Grace”









As specified in final arrangements
The kids could only draw near enough
To Temples, & to what resembles Temples,
To take big pictures, big sky country shots,
& pot shots,
For a faraway featuring of folly.
Go down always face down the hall,
This dawn displays holy sun rays smoke
And on the just rightly out of tune upright bass
My at rest in peace bare-chested Daddy
Just barely jazzin up most all of a
New England Protestant hymnal
Ones his mother, Grace
Sang through softly over & over
Busy at her own handiwork as ever


December 23, 2018

humour me
it’s surely not insurmountable
humour me
I concur it’s not as easy as
glossy magazines face-up on coffee tables
it’s what I really want for christmas
it’s what I really want for my wish to go
for when stars shoot, for my pennies deep in a well,
when a haytruck passes–Don’t Look Back! aw hell
I guess it’s a day way more serious
it’s a night  more so


August 7, 2018

All my daddies looked down to me
One daddy is asea

First fogs sound off as if
Birdsong was it’s voice
I meant like all lighthouses yearn
Intent on seeing inside the fog
For anything but distraction
I’m no lack for that at home
I’m straining out my eyes, & hand too
For something right to fill in
Something tonight to fill in