Monthly Archives: August 2011

The trip

Reading the patina-seasoned bronze postcard at my feet stokes no inner desire of mine to travel Details are scarce; dates, no places. This is premium vacation time, a long time coming traveling solo; no timeshares, no all-inclusive-cruise – hostel or … Continue reading

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Picasso Bunyan

A poet friend goes to the piney north woods only after stopping by the local hardware store where he picks up paint-chip cards. Holding them up to whatever thing of nature he is writing about,he then aspires to be Crayola … Continue reading

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It was the day the circus came to town we went and you made a small joke about the contorting monkeys wishing I was as limber, simianly creative. My chuckling retort comparing you – favorably, I thought – to the … Continue reading

Posted in Love and Romance, Relationships, Uncategorized

Not my tempo

I have never danced with the devil. We have, however, chatted amiably around the punchbowl a time or two

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Old pros(e)

(for Ron H.) A friend of mine – fellow poet – likes Bukowski while I much prefer Frost he disdains Ferlinghetti can’t understand why I don’t says Dickinson has no beat we share a fondness for Ginsburg’s rants, Stein and … Continue reading

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He was a shaman always clad in sacramental wool plaid shirt, dirty cap there are no mountaintops in Minnesota’s northwoods Enlightenment here comes from atop decaying tree stump aside rustic leaf and pine needle carpeted trails cutting through towering pines, … Continue reading

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She crosses my mind from time to time in a downtown crosswalk, distracted, late-for-a-lunch-date manner sometimes she is more casual, unaware, letting the dog out, grabbing the Sunday paper off the sidewalk before brunch She crosses my mind from time … Continue reading

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Calendar, clock, seasons youth, maturation, death functional, pre-meditated change for the sake of change Desire, plans, politics she loves me not, she loves me? Change on the fly, on a whim, on a wing-and-a-prayer. On the lam. Change happens to … Continue reading

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He noticed her intensity sitting there, reading Trying to capture some of her bookish vehemence he prodded hopefully “Ahh. The plot thickens.” “Like old Hollandaise” she replied, without looking up He turned on the television, swearing off books

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Requiem for pals

The roll call is read the dead members of a reunioning high school class twenty-fifth, thirtieth, fortieth… ‘In Memoriam’ reads the blurb on the back page of the program momentary reverence emceed and just for a briefest moment, time truly does … Continue reading

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