How Dare You Quote Whitman

Sonny, (I can call you that because I’ve grey and am much older than you)

You don’t look like a man who’dve (proper grammar? I surely don’t care)

Said what you said (but you said it, and it stole my heart)

In Chapter 25 (chapter twenty-five., to be precise)

Or even a man who’dve been able to “focus” this long (though you lay claim to seeing its virtue, so I’ll believe you)

Given the amount of time (I’ve spent more than my fair share of it and secretly believe it’s ubiquitous)

And number of exhalations I know (I know) it took away

From your habitual daydreaming (I’ve a penchant for it, too)

I could (sadly, I will) continue sharing unrequited love-jabs here

But it’s late and the (glorious, but damned) mosquitoes have made their entrance

So I laugh (always — most often at myself), and tuck your bookmark (thanks) in my bra strap (ha) instead of your book (your book, bravo) and go inside for the night (and, how dare you quote Whitman?!)

Goodnight (goodnight)


Do you daydream of Coffee
When it is night
Too late in the night
Imprudently so?

Do you long for Daylight
For earlier Light
That Caffeine’s first kiss come soon
I do

After The Education

I did not just now
Did I
In my peripheral
With my two tired eyes
A guy strum slow down the sidewalk
With a cello
My very favorite
This time it saddened me, though 
For it caused his back to bow
Under the weight of it 
When he’d certainly have preferred 
To reach 
And pluck
The new tulips along his path instead 


Next in the dream-come-true
After all the gathering
And the love
And the rest
Dr. Maya waived me back
Knowing look in her eye
Yes on your test, she crooned
Miracle as it is in this advanced media age
Despite the education and planning and all
But there was that hope
Then the faith
What will you name it
7 Little Haiku Truths

This May Take Awhile

It’s an inopportune time that you’ve come to my door, as I’m making mud pies and my hair’s in curlers. 

I’m in the middle of a daydream and I may need your help. 

It’s recurring, with stories, songs or poems and from time to time virtues or myths. 

At present a fable, my friend, of a man with sometimes paint on his always groomed hands….