Monday, February 26, 2007

...stuck in the shovel...

the last time we talked

it snowed

but this time

the garage door

wouldn't open

and I had to go about it

with a shovel

Victorian Grounds

(the snow blower

stayed warm inside

the stuck door's

windshield)

worried about traction

they felt the slush

of the night's performance

dull but enough

to slow down

the cars and refuse

the drawbridge

the right

to close

because of the disabled

vehicle in

the right

lane

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

...what it's...

it's finale snow

it's hammer time

it's white chocolate love

it's glacial and spatial

it's going to be gone

it's situational sleet

it's chord-o-roy time

it's galaxies of snow globes

it's turtle tank clean-up

it's delayed school openings

it's libraries closing

it's mom's new foot

it's mom's new foot

it's a tennis court in Dubai

it's you typing up your poems

it's true there is no flu

it's snow and it's new

it's lunch at the Thai/Italian place

it's a big black furry boot

it's tea time

it's Davis Cup reruns

it's all day all Poker

it's getting hot in here

it's frothing a bit in the south

it's cotton-mouth memory cards

it's a 30 Rock episode

it's "happee vallemtimes"

Monday, February 12, 2007

...your sleeping smile...

I love you

good night

you smile like

you do when

you walk

in your sleep

toward the garden

in the castleyard

you sleep with that

smile while I watch

and so want

to make the magic

tale an actual

realm I lose hope

when you lose

your sleeping smile

to the disturbance

of waking

...disappointemnt in the garden...

the poodle

peed

deliberately

to break

the stride

of the

competition


the English

came in second

because

he picked

up the scent

stunting

his stumpy

gate


the French

akin to nothing

but the namesake

didn't make

it close

white

as ghost


but

the imperfect

poodle

pop-pom-ed

and piss-filled


baited

the breeds

and

broke

the leash

because

its butt

was bare


and cold

in the garden

during winter.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

...traditionally, an American problem...

disease

spreads from body

to brain

by way of blood

rushing

to the head


the tragedy

is not Shakespearean

nor is it Grecian


it is all American

psychosis and addiction

blame and neglect


defeat at the hands

of the giant clown


his transfatty fry-guys

in three-pie(ce) suits


this not heredity

nor is it fate


it is negligance

at the hands

of the abuser


the ones who have left

her behind

those who have falsely

pledged allegiance


those who have

taken her too far

and left the impossible


task of regaining

solid footing

Friday, February 02, 2007

...emer-gen-C broad (casting system)...

it is incessant

at times

this ache in the inner ear

and the dog whistle

that will forever

take over the command

of all the puppies

in the golden country


for once in our lives

I wish the ringing

would just modify

or pitch bend

to add variety

to the song of the deaf


I am so sorry

we had to go this way


but this is what

we wanted and got


this is a test

this is just

a test