7.11.2015
pig’s gotta write
a pome
he does it every
night
hooves on the
keyboard
stomping
about
bimbi, oh my
bimbi
his favorite
psalm
bimbi, oh my
bimbi
all the day
long.
——————
7.11.2015
pig’s gotta write
a pome
he does it every
night
hooves on the
keyboard
stomping
about
bimbi, oh my
bimbi
his favorite
psalm
bimbi, oh my
bimbi
all the day
long.
——————
7.11.2015
she lived with
pain for years
until a real
love came.
now gone
there is grief
at too quick
an end
yet the heights
spoke truth.
—————-
I toted numbers
looking for a
pattern
of
hopefulness
against
want
then I sat down
for an ice cream
cone
and
was satisfied.
——————
7.5.2015
humid air, hard
tasting of metal
breath as through
a wet rag.
no place for people
to be
nor for the cat.
——————–
7.7.2015
the fan stays constant
rotating wooden arms
flailing a breeze to
aid sleep
we rest nearby
catching the merest
hint of its wave
that soothes.
so much for living
off the land.
—————-
7.3.2015
at some point you
realize
that you have fought
many fights
survived many
struggles
and are surprised
at how well
life has turned
out
except for the friends
who after
a lifetime have
not.
there is gratitude
and survivor
guilt.
—————
6.19.2015
smart set sidewalks
high rent casual
diners
what happens to
a nice town
after
affluence discovers
the lakeside seaside
ambience
that used to be for
year-longers who
hung on
when summer touries
moved
on
but now have bought
it all up and wander
by
with just enough elan
to seem charming
but
aren’t.
——————
7.1.2015
she asks for four
bag lunches
each morning
supposedly for
children
unseen
her approach is
slow, steady
head down
covered up in
her coat
and hat
expression blank
responses
mono-syllabic
as if life has
hurt her
so
that her inner
conversation
is all
she wants
and for
the world
to stay out.
I watch her walk
down the
block
out of sight slow
and steady, head
down.
I pray that this isn’t
her only
nourishment.
———————-
6.28.2015
streets wide enough
for teams of oxen
to turn
streets wide enough
for legions
of followers
to learn
streets wide enough
for the pavings of heaven
for roadways of jasper,
carnelian and gold
streets for the prayings
of a new
revelation
streets wide and
wider
for the blessing
of all.
—————
(Brigham Young, Salt Lake City, 1847)
————————