Stranded

Stranded.

I don’t want to be stranded

like Robinson Crusoe

on an island

of pain

with no rescue in sight

another weekend;

so, doc,

can you fill out

the prescription again

that one with real bite?

Overgrown

Overgrown

Sometimes my poems are cluttered with adverbs and adjectives,

subjunctive clauses, desultory detours like this front yard is overgrown

with weeds. When my poems gets like this. when you can’t see the structure,

it is time to bring out the whipper snipper. Time for a trim.

Some Men

 
Some Men
 
Some men walk around with their hands clasped behind their backs as if handcuffed, their posture stooped. They look like they’ve given up on life, prisoners of age and ennui. If ever I get like this, I tell my partner, shoot me.

Bug Eyed with Happiness


Look at him now

bug-eyed with happiness

evergreen with the springtime

of love.

Remember him bleached & wilting

on that park bench by the bull-rushes?

Well, look who just turned up.

His life is on an upswing.

Whoopee, he says,

as he goes higher and higher,

his love looking on.