Friday, August 21, 2009

Poem 51


When ducks and trucks

Collide inside

Your house is sure

A mess.

So close the door

Avoid the store

Don't call for pizza

Or run for office

Or cheer on Notre Dame –

Stay inside with lock'ed door

You'll be much safer

But ever more a bore.

Poem 50


I don't remember much

About the weather in Nantucket

Nor easily recall a ceiling drama

Or carefully placed grey bucket -

But when it rains too rapidly

For the roofing to keep us dry

A bucket, waste bin or dumpster

Will help prevent Mr. Bill's shrill cry

"Oh, shit we all will die."


Monday, August 17, 2009

Poem 49


When salmon sip cider

With wood smoke in the air

They wonder why hamsters

Have so much soft brown hair -

It might be a problem

Swimming upstream

It would be great

For warm winter dreams.

Poem 48


Hannibal liked his animal

More than he liked the snow –

But Hannibal drove his animal

As far as he could go.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Poem 47


There are ants in the house

In the yard;

In the grass;

In the street;

In the driveway;

Scouting everywhere

For water;

For food;

For friends;

One assumes –


No one ever sees

Ants stopped to chat

Like your aunt or uncle.

Maybe they only deal with basics.

Too small to engage in real conversation

We may never ever know.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Poem 46


Frazzled fried fuming frequent

Frustrating slow bewildered pace

As Friday crept upon the calendar

Without expression succession or space.

Monday haunts the view beyond

A weekend fleeting past too fast

Like sand blown off the beach too soon

Back to work

Too soon

Too soon.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Poem 45


With ideas solid as Jell-o molds

And actions louder than whispers

Cracks and comments, hints and snickers

Slither forth from dark and secret places

Echoes inside AM's scratchy landscape

Where some slouch and sway

Along an endless, twisting way.

Will we notice what got said

Or fear the echo without thought

With dread.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Poem 44


Ham and cheese

Makes Ted sneeze

If he's in the country.

But cheese and pickles

Despite some tickles

Fills his every need.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Poem 43


With blooming fruit; roses sweet;

Greening grass; concrete path --

A backyard is so well contained

Within a fence; below a tree

Just the size for you and me.