Crazy Thoughts on a Lazy Day

Who are we to think we’re so special among all else?

Neither the largest nor the smallest avow such status

We are an interesting species, especially to ourselves

Safe neighborhoods are getting rare – look around

Stand there and make a list of the things that scare you

If you dare

Who goes to sleep within immediate danger?

The tired, the beaten, the child! Evil is a human thing

Yet a lot of what humans do remains amazing

We enjoy electricity, yet worry about good water

Time to tell our stories to the trees, play birds

like violins, enjoy visits to other places, worlds

away we may be the ones being watched like art

hung in galleries and intergalactic museums


Oh the things we had to do to get free

Walk in shackles, shuffling obedient

We took part in the degrading of us

Some got upset having to sit still & listen

Others sure they’d remain innocent

Fear roadblocks, barbed & concertina wire

Be a refugee with no papers, no documents

that would convince the border guards

Called foreigner, persona non grata, animal

Kept in the same massive herd we arrived in

Played their game of catch the food, spill the water

Live in a world where only the basic needs

are deemed worthy of being met, as if

there really were a lack of funds. No one

wanted to die. Not at first, anyway

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