Monday, August 13, 2018

The Poetry of Thanks

I forgot the nice bottle of wine,
The beautiful card, a nice piece of artisanal cheese,
All of the niceties that good guests leave behind
The ones with good manners and a full head of hair,
We are the bald and the crippled, the overworked nurse who still needs to
Write a presentation for a week from today and gets interrupted for
Another glass of Root, with ice, after a shower and a shave
I meant to do better, but I didn’t, having destroyed two plastic containers
As water expanded to ice, I meant to be a better guest
With excellent manners.
We thank you, Al and Sharon, for a break from looking out the
Same windows, for a comfy bed, for the challenge of finding anything in
Your beautiful kitchen, for your friendship.


Sunday, August 5, 2018

QQN- 064 Love in America

Nothing like the warm hug of cold steel,
the smooth butt of a handgun or round 
barrel of a .45
it's all love, isn't it, love of country and each other,
standing proud over the American flag,
I wanted to go hug you, QQN-064, but you 
looked preoccupied as you awaited the final number
from the Geico adjuster,
how many was it in Sandy Hook, or the nightclub
in Florida, how is Ms. Giffords fairing these days,
somehow the warm hug turned into warm blood.

Thursday, August 2, 2018

the invalid and his nurse

he snores at night, unable to roll onto his side,
waking himself up, realizing he needs to use the bathroom,
and reaching down to grasp the yogurt container for such
she sleeps upstairs, restless, then falling into the deep sleep
only exhaustion brings
the tasks of emptying yogurt containers, hefting ice buckets,
cooking, cleaning, bathing, washing, administering medications,
she snores at night, waking herself and realizing she needs to use the bathroom
and her small feet pad across the cool wooden floor,
hoping she is not waking the invalid, who may call out to
her for something
she wants to turn off her phone
but she doesn't.
she loves him,
after all.

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

I'm miss seeing you

I miss seeing you spill onto a white screen
telling me things you have kept inside,
things you have seen but not shared with me,
thoughts that run through your mind
we should talk about this
about why you are silent
was it that I ignored you, always listening
to other voices, focusing on ideas that
have nothing to do with the sounds around me,
the rustling of trees or the plants in the garden,
they are trying to talk to me, too.

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Monday, July 9, 2018

My friend, Gloria

I think we met on the boat dock at MIT
on that blustery morning, that morning where our
boat overturned in the Charles River.
Friends for life.
She kept sailing.
Forty years later, she's rowing,
back to violin,
and me, back to flute, avoiding boats
and water.
we look young, don't we, at 58 and 60,
our happiness at being together 
shaves off the years.

Friday, July 6, 2018

Traveling to Europa

in bed at 1 p.m.
finally arising at 6 p.m.
slightly more human, enough to eat salmon
cheese, salad, drink wine, walk a drunken block to
the park, only to collapse again.
such an epic journey to Europa
the lack of air knocked me
back for a