7.2 Billion Universes

Needing rain we get it all today. The limbs filled with leaves

droop, then sway in a gust raining wet drops as the boughs lift

looking perhaps for the sunshine staring dull behind a cloud

cover stretching from the Ohio Valley to the North Atlantic

No thunder and lightning yet – it’s forecast this afternoon

I hope there is no damaging wind like last week where

so many trees got twisted and uprooted, Downed power lines

and debris blocked side streets…just now getting cleared

Torrential downpours lull a steady light rain. A few birds

dare the feeder. Lanky saplings take an occasional bow

All goes quiet in between storms. The sun gets brighter

and the roads begin drying, In another hour or so more rain

is set to fall into the night. Our dreams, invaded by the density

of over population, have witnessed this tranquil moment

None of us will be the same from here on

Important Stuff


Here I am half another year older but only a day or two wiser

With my glasses off I know the world plays by different rules

Distances look further away. Other senses don’t compensate

What I hear goes fuzzy, distorted; my steps exercise caution

 

Yet there are times when what I’m eating is so delicious

that I close my eyes while I chew, and drift into a fantasy

starring you at your best.

I’d thank you with roses and scotch

but, I know better.

 

Love and sex have a lot to do with marriage – though,

not always with each other. Marriage, an agreement recognized and established by the state to keep track of the patriarchal money trail, calls for powers of love (how else to endure its difficulties?), trade, family                                         (possibly, but not always)

A compact between equals [at least one might argue that we’re all equals] entails agreeing to those vow(s) made. I’ll look in my bible to see where the marriage vows are presented, as some churches declare. To some marriage is between God, a man, and a woman. It’s been practiced by religion long before (they infer) it was codified by law. The marriage I speak of is a legal definition determined by the polis.

 

Relax. Nobody has to marry some one

of their own sex, some bodies can

if they want to.

 

Fertility Clinics, Adoption Agencies, Marriage Counselors, Divorce Lawyers, in this capitalistic country, all will remain busy. Score ten for the economy!

The Watchmakers Off to Other Universes

Ha, ha at the end

The joke is on us

Our dead friends watched

 

I appeal! My thoughts lost in simple, quick moment, gone.

 

Cool as in chill, be calm

Cool as in hep, hip, aware

Cool as in don’t say a word

 

Never mind that appeal. I’m out of here –

 

Looking for the next lyric flying by

That Irish gene shared with birds

our bursting into song             overwhelms

 

Even the common parts of our souls predated

All things set to work precisely, apparently wear down

quite easily in the Milky Way’s ultra swirl and orbit

 

The creator(s) left many punch lists un-punched

Clearly but that doesn’t save us in any specific way

 

It seems we save each other if there’s any savings

to be had over here in this corner

 

An afternoon fog comes down and I am a tree in mid-June

Summer waits in the wing for Spring to finish her act

 

Count on us to land somewhere we can find comfort

as much as mine

Immediate goals make sense of the unending nothing

I keep finding on the floor and in the unused closets

as I try to figure out the value of this house

without any of the good times being sale able

 

Could be a host of possibilities but who gets to choose

– You? Me? Depends on how much we like to be fools

 

Spotify is the new radio, record player, stereo system

all in one and on the computer where our friends are

 

yet there’re radios or a cd players in many of the rooms

But all that old stuff will be removed before the staging

 

Who cares what the new owners may do with the place

It’ll be theirs as soon as the check cashes – though

I’ve no reason not to wish them well, the best even:

May your life be blessed living here as ours has been

I might get dressed before noon

What meaning, what purpose persists on a day like this:

green and cool and sunny as small bugs flit in shaded air?

 

Many of my neighbors have their combustion engines

firing, working their lawns toward summer. I don’t care

 

Instead I focus on the blue above, where it might take me

Perhaps to some land where I hear birds sing and trees waft

light in a breeze that whispers patience and joy

 

Perhaps to new adventures, worse dangers on that horizon

A jogger, rolling heel to toe, runs along. Later, a few cars

claim the road as if we must live where we were born

 

Three strands of oak beard hang from the power lines

connecting our house to a culture we find less attractive

 

Out of golden trees black birds maneuver their flight

paths around this house, something seen as don’t smash into

APRIL FOURTH

How much of the story

do you need to know

to follow what is said?

 

Each relationship offers

problems

What was promised

often stays unfulfilled

 

March winds blow into April

The calendar an approximation

Spring arrives on its own terms

 

We may all deserve a queen

loved by the populace

 

Still we get what we get – today

sunshine & chilly north-wind gusts

 

Reminders of how tight

Nature’s grip holds

It Takes Days To Get A Moment Right

The only difference between here & the frontier:

Here houses stand quiet in hills of weeks of ice

 

There are no houses on the frontier. A cabin or

lean-to here & there – no planned neighborhood

not on that horizon yet owned by wild beasts

 

I’m also struck by the houses being empty

No one is making any apparent moves

 

No bodies in winter wear walk the paths

they’d shoveled from front doors to car doors &

carved along roadways to the mail boxes

 

I haven’t even seen anyone walking a dog

Has my dream of being left alone come real?

 

No way to tell. Some things remain beyond us, like

my slow, lingering understanding of human nature