Not Humored

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A gorilla behind the wheel

Surely you see the humor

And he’s brilliant, after all

If you’re outside looking in….

…but inside….

Gripping at anything stationary

Having stopped laughing miles and miles ago

You rethink genius, throw a banana in the backseat

And resume your route to the zoo

The Lengthening

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What puts me on edge about Spring is it makes no promises and refuses all requests.

Without notice, it could choose the craze of a Summer heat.

The best case scenario -such bravery in risking my lust.

Or on a dime, it delivers a confused dose of wintry wrath.

Snow that won’t live to see the weekend, so why-for dear Spring?

But woe be to me should Spring choose a most deviant trickery:

And leave me longing in only the long shadows of a forever Fall.

The Drop

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The drop

Atop the chim-chimney, in evening’s early hours

Slow, slowly down rock, round midnight

Absorbed then disbursed by the skin of the roof before dawn

Why, oh why, can gutters steal you by sunrise

The fall

Space

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That game

Of Life

I won

Back in late 1980-something

Which was

To be

For fun

You turned into a federal offense

Hear this

My rules

You’re done

You can no longer share My life

My time

Or be

My Sun

Unprocessed

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I’ve come to decide

From necessity

The crickets’ cry of silence means

I’ve left my beloveds speechless

In the very best way possible

Stunned, like they’d just seen a light

Its source before now unknown

And decisions of whether to fear

Or to collaborate

Are yet unprocessed

Hats

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Ev’ry step a mystery

Sometimes not the pretty type, but just a bloody mess

We each walk the same road, trying our utmost

And whether witness, victim, detective or criminal

We’re left watching, or seeking retribution, a solution or redemption

Hoping

Oft’ to no avail

Blue Damsels

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Diminished

From the wind, I think

Or what’s riding on it

Chilled uncertainty?

Despite any positive prophecy or revelation

Holy, scholarly, or both

It’s what troubles me to the core today

And my sisters too

So let us weep in any and all ways tonight

So the morrow we’ll feel as ourselves again

Whole

Mormon Row

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With grateful paintbrush in hand, I am leaving space for you

A beautiful a background, careful, I capture the sun

Find now open an area broad enough and close enough to the sky

That your shoulders might fit and comfortably give rest to what is

I know not the shape of you, tho’ your colors, you’ve made clear

Bright-dark weathered patina that complements my tempest greens

Vivid chards of amber to offset my mountainous blues

Your easy frame an open window, a willing respite

Fighting your way, straight to the foreground of me, for me

Withstanding, will they find us, the very wildest of climes