In The Mood For Oolong

A fly's tap
at the window
reminds us
there is always
more work
to do.

Big Knocks On The Silent Floor

I am not holding out.
All the snaps are coming off
the woman's blouse
and pelleting traffic.
I am in the background.
A child's breath
is a newspaper of distraction
and a microphone
for envy.
Stuff the body with more steam.
Stamps
as the new literary outlet.
It's September
and I am getting my feet wet.
What we want is
mental connection.
We call yesterday True.
Today I am in the centerfold
that cannot be reached,
floundering in the white
seams.

SpoonFork and Needle

Tomorrow I will remember two things
and make the other one up:

Cat asleep
on a stack of textbooks
gives us room to
look at art,
play a classical cd,
wiggle our toes.

Two Flowers Away From The Cemetery

The sound of a woman's cane
beneath a closet full of white rose bushes,
a three-legged mouse
trying to charm a beetle,
an apple on the curb
with one large bite missing,
trash,

reminds me
we never met for lunch
before I left.
That postcard of the bear
holding a Goodbye sign
in his teeth.

The End Again

THEYWE
NTTOTH
EEND.BUT
THEEND
WASNOT
FARENO
UGH.SO
THEYT
URNEDA
ROUND
ANDWE
NTTOTH
EENDAG
AIN.

Yours Truly,

A mild voice standing out
in a crowded room.
Fan in the third-story window
ready to jump.
The future is about to change

written all over the sidewalks.
Emptiness in the ash of cigarette butts.
Something past
in the past.

Remember the night
we froze ourselves in the lake
between dinner and the party?
Your light-yellow jacket
still hanging on the nail in the hall
for everyone to see,
resembling only a part
of your shoulders.

Big

It doesn't matter
if the trees are broke,
we've held onto
our solid beliefs
long enough.

Memory

We measure the space
and hammer the nails
and try to hang the mirror
near the door

but the wall is crummy
and the thick cedar frame
with metal antlers
is heavy
and pulls away the nails
and some of the plaster
and we just leave it
like that
because

Daughter, You Look So Pretty

Your ivory chiffon gown
has a high Victorian neckline
with a yoke of schiffli lace
set in a gathered bodice
with long bishop sleeves
of pleated chiffon.
The softly gathered skirt falls
from a natural waistline
to floor length
and extends to a chapel length train.
A border of schiffli lace
and chiffon pleating
encircles the bottom of the skirt
and train.

-found poem, pinned inside my mother's wedding dress

Something Big

Mother phoned to say uncle had died, which meant I had inherited his school bus. “I didn’t know Uncle was a bus driver,” I said. “He wasn’t,” she said, “but it was one of his passions. Now look outside your front window." I did as I was told, and of course the bus was parked in the driveway. “And the keys?” I asked. “In the ignition.” As a freewheeling man I had no plans or job to speak of. So I crawled into the driving seat, which was still warm, and started off. I drove straight to Cleveland before I had to stop for gas. Outside the station I met two females who wanted to go for a ride. I agreed, thinking they would make good company, but quickly regretted it. We were on the road only a short time when I realized how disgusting they were. I tried to persuade them to exit out the back, telling them I suspected the bus was filling with toxic gas that might cause serious weight gain, but they were smarter than I thought, and started to laugh. After awhile I lost control of my arms and legs and began swerving into telephone poles. The bus held up perfectly and with great success, I left them in a ditch. I went further into the countryside until I came upon a man fishing a waterhole. I stopped to watch, but nothing was biting. “Rough waters?” I asked. “No, no bait,” he said. “Nice bus.” “Thanks. You want it?” “Sure, but what do you want in exchange?” he wondered. I didn't know for sure, but I also didn't hesitate and said,“Warmth.” “No problem my friend, follow me.” We walked through some prickly trees and came to the front door of his house. “Make yourself at home,” he said. “Thank you,” I said. Then he jogged off, climbed into the bus, and drove out of sight. I went inside and met his healthy wife and their seven young children. “Where are the fishy fish?” the wife asked. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t have any fish, in fact I don’t have anything.” “Well, sorry won’t cut it buddy. Get out there and don’t come back until you have something that will feed eight hungry mouths.” "You're absolutely right," I said, "I'll be back, I promise."

I Heard That One Before

I confessed everything
to an earwig
and he ran under a crack
in the floorboards
and re-surfaced later
in the soap dish.

Deli Counter Stacked with Cold Meats

Eating an i'mnotsupposetoloveyouanymore sandwich and watching a kid outside the window
kick a dead frog, which looks like a washed-out rag, and thinking maybe I should call to see
if you are home.

Confession

We woke the ceramic tiger,
that is, he stretched and yawned
and licked his gigantic tooth,
which meant he was capable of anything.
So we backed further into his cave
and found our ceramic selves
and hid behind them and never returned
to each other.

Price Tag

A bouquet of plastic flowers
lay perfectly outside
the apartment building
like it had been delivered
right from the store
to that spot
on the pavement.

Passing Time

Build a mountain
next to the sea.
A mountain lasts.

Add warm water.
Remove unnecessary rocks,
and salt heavily.

Knead courseness into
dough caves
and dig east
for wave-effect.

Cover with cool
hand towels.
Drifts should peak.

If the mountain needs more time,
wait.
If another appointment arises,
go ahead and take it.
The forests will form
naturally.

Like A Squirrel With Pulp In His Jaws

Tonight
we undress in a hurry,
race to show each other
just how much love
there is.

Well, That Depends

A man driving and reading his bible
hits a small child playing hop-scotch
in the middle of the road.

The Fly Had Human Ears

Dear so-and-so,
I made a big mistake,
so you know,
sorry.

Two

"You forgot a comma."
"A what?"
"A comma," I say and point
at the spot on his lip.
"Oh. Thanks," he says in a reddish voice
and flicks it off somewhere
past the table we are sharing.

Morning Poem

Things are not as easy
as they seem
does not apply to everything,
for example
the toaster.