Awaiting the Verdict

3D_Mars

 

 

From across the room

my eyeball

Eyeballed me on the 10 inch screen,

It’s tracery of veins

A network of canals, the orange-red sphere

the red planet

With a bright yellow centre.

 

Now, said the ophthalmologist,

 Pointing out the dark smudges across its surface

Let’s look for signs of cataracts

And macular degeneration.

She eyed my eyeball closely.

 

I sat forward and awaited the verdict.

 

* photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

The Magic Button

עלי_באבא_מתחבא_על_העץ

I was locked in a cab once

when the driver

went off

to get a can of petrol

& I wanted

to get out.

My hands flew all over the place.

 

Then the driver when he got back

bent down

& showed me

The Magic Button

at the base of the passenger side door handle.

All you had to do was pop it

& Open Sesame!

 

It’d be good, I thought,

to have a magic button each time

you were locked in

somewhere unpleasant:

 

Like a meeting you couldn’t get out of,

A Xmas get together that had turned ugly

a flight that went on far too long

Or a poem you couldn’t find a way out from.

 

* pic from Wiki-commons

Between the Flags

swim

Two more drownings down at the Bay.

‘Swim between the flags’, lifesavers say.

Live between the flags, and you play it safe

But against such restrictions, the spirit chafes.

‘Don’t Drink Too Much’, ‘Gamble Responsibly’

‘Wear seat belts, bike helmets, drive responsibly.’

‘Don’t Smoke, Do Drugs’, the flags hem us in

& we’re scared little children, there seems to be no end.

‘Doctors won’t prescribe benzo- diazapines

Or other drugs of dependence’, and please no codeine.

‘Don’t Talk To strangers’, Be careful Online.

Swim between the flags and you’ll be just fine.

 

 

That Helicopter Kid

heli

There was this kid who stood at the back of the class

When I came to read my poems

And whenever I got boring he’d rotate

His arms like the blades of a helicopter

& the more I banged on the faster

His arms would whir

Until it looked like he’d take off

 

His teacher and the other kids paid him

No mind.

 

In the pause between poems he’d say,

You done yet?

And I’d say,

Almost.

And he’d say, Good and slow down.

And when I stopped, he’d stop.

The eagle had landed.

 

Whenever I do a reading I see

That kid at the back

His arms set to rotate.

It keeps me honest.

Wimp

stingray-clipart-black-and-white-10

 

Too overcast.

Shadows on the ocean.

Clouds shifting.

Too much motion.

 

Anything could be anything.

Shadows or sharks.

Stingrays or box jelly-fish.

Too dark.

 

You just don’t know.

Cannot say.

No, sir. Not going in.

No swimming today.