Dark Matter: A film review

dark matter, the unknown which
holds the sky, the stars, that which keep
such blazing orbs from hurtling from each other
at yet higher speeds, the black,
the unseen, which must be acknowledged in
each of our hearts and minds,
lest it lead us to the ultimate
and final darkness.

Getting a Haircut

There was no going back.

I was in the hair stylists chair
discussing how much to cut.
I reminded myself hair grows
back and S fell in love with me
when I had a mullet and braces
so nothing too bad could come
of this even though the woman
yielding the scissors had the hair
style from hell, in purple, her lips
outlined in bright red, tweezed
eyebrows and bright blue eyeshadow.
Trust her, I told myself, she’s
been doing this for years and
gulp, she seems nice.
Afterwards, as I walked home
with K, she said, nice cut,
except it looks like a mullet.

Christmas Presents I: The Pink Kitchen Aid Mixer

The essential non-essential kitchen item,
the one you wanted for years, each year
telling yourself it’s not needed, it’s not,
you can cream butter and sugar by hand,
whip egg whites with the old hand mixer
that promises to detonate one day when
the beaters finally wobble into oblivion,
you really want the pink one, the one
that will match the trim on the kitchen
counter you finally got after ten years
of hating the stained yellow countertop
you swore you would replace as soon as
you bought the house 15 years ago.
Now you have the essential non-essential
kitchen item, in pink, on your counter top
with the pink trim and you’ve made waffles
and chocolate sugar cookies and chocolate
cookies and wonder how did you survive
without it for all these years.

offensive, indeed

some are offended when asked
how much weight they have gained,
or that they look terrible in their new
dress; how it’s incredible that they
don’t understand how to solve
a set of coupled partial differential
equations even though they were
an English major, or reminded once
again how they met long ago, in
let’s say, non-ideal circumstances.
tonight, our hostess was offended,
although she solves differential equations
in her sleep, looks fabulous in any outfit
from working out religiously in the gym,
has a fascinating and charming husband
in her home town of Liege.
I brought my own knives, believing
that hers were not sharp enough.
Now, that’s offensive.

A Good Day to buy a Christmas Tree

There's still a good selection at
McGuckin Hardware, and
not too many crowds.
The decorations are even 50% off,
or more and we could have a fine time
decorating the tree, since ours is
not yet decorated; the needles have
fallen to the floor and the fresh
smell of pine is long gone.
What a shame that we all march
to the same drummer, buying full
price and singing Christmas carols
in unison; how lovely to sing
throughout the year for peace and
harmony, good will towards all.

Transporting

quite unlike the guy who
ends up with a beautiful girl
in the trunk, I am transported
from a busy world to the
quiet of snow drifting
down onto silent streets.

Found People I: Daughter

She showed up a few days ago
and hasn’t left, camped in the
downstairs bedroom, appearing
in the kitchen periodically to
make, and then gorge on,
chocolate cookies; disappearing
to see friends and then reappearing
to cook squash soup, squash and
barley mélange, threatening to
make squash mojitos and
squash cookies.
I found her at my house again,
sprawled across her bed at night,
as always, her arms crossed over
her chest, legs crossed as if
praying for a good night’s sleep.

Found Objects I: Plastic Hourglass

The children have moved out.
I’m gradually cleaning up the flotsam
and jetsam of childhood.
I pick up a plastic hourglass with
blue caps and I hear her laughter
in the distance as the last grain of sand
dropped into the bottom and I lost
the game again, the one she beat me
at many times over many years.
It doesn’t matter which one.
I turn it over again and watch
the white sand drizzle down
wondering at how time passes,
I hear her laughter in the kitchen;
she is done with such silly games.
In any case, now she would beat me
fair and square.

Driving with Glasses

I admit my driving was scary,
accelerating into turns I have
traveled many times,
S speaking to me in harsh
tones to slow down and
follow the road and did I
see that car up ahead, and I
was scared to drive to Denver
in a bit to pick up a sick kid,
me who never drives to Denver
even in daylight.
Walking out the door I spotted
my salvation, my glasses.
oh, how well I see with my
glasses on, and I drive with
confidence to pick up my
sick kid, who now sleeps under
five covers, with three corn bags,
all of us hoping he will wake up
tomorrow and smile at the world.

Babysitting Nemo

I am babysitting Nemo.
everytime i look at him, he
waves his orange fins and tail at me;
i wonder if this is how fish flirt.
(i hope i don’t get in trouble with
C; he is her fishy love after all.)
he has dumped his diet of one
pellet twice a day for six, or seven,
even then wiggling for more!
i am worried about my new fishy
friend who seems to gorge himself
and swim all day and all night.
i would never forgive myself
if he ate himself to death.
i hope that fish do not
do such silly
things.

Resting on the Rooftop

She doesn’t mind the rain,
or the sun, the sleet or snow
that drifts down gently onto
her back, her hips, her shoulders.
She always gazes at the same
spot in the sky, never complaining
that her hips are sore from the
concrete bedding or that
people stare at her all
the time in her beautiful
nakedness.

The Conference

like ants swarming an anthill,
we stream across busy streets,
interrupted by red lights
and rushing cars, we only pause
a moment before our beige coats,
our posters wrapped up in cardboard
tubes, our umbrellas, our badges
hanging from our necks, we
stream from Moscone West to
South, up and down escalators,
into presentation halls and out
again, congregating and dissembling
again, into lines spreading across
the city and into our hotel rooms
to rest before another day.

Raising the roof at 7:00 am Sunday morning

a large truck wandered the street, a
small car behind stuffed with five Mexicans
that cold Sunday morning, the sun barely
awake; I was the only one on the street
until they poured out, three from the
truck, the five from the car, scampering
up quickly erected ladders, buckets
and shovels aloft, their voices carrying
over the still air as birds chattering
at the feeder, their breath hanging
as frost in the air.

Missing a Poem

I was defenseless,
she handed me a margarita
in one hand, guacamole and chips
in the other, followed by another
and home made sopapillas and
another, and well, I only
had permission to drink this way
because my home was across
the street and no one was at
risk, but myself.
I admit I collapsed on the
bed, eyes out of focus, a bit,
only a bit, but the headache
rolled in and my fingers, nor my
mind, work very well, so poetry did
not flow. I paid later for being remiss,
a worsening headache,
that middle of the night
tummy ache.
In the morning, I asked S why
he let me drink that much.
He just looked at me funny
and wandered off.
ok, I was in full
control and it
was fun.

Daisy and Me

she’s been my friend
for a long time, through
the various men who have come
and gone, through
childhood tantrums, the
empty nest syndrome,
through the loss of friends,
old jobs and into new ones,
she’s always been there,
from her early days of lunging
for food, growling and biting,
to her more mellow years of
following me around, her
toenails clicking against the
old wooden floors.
i love her for her bunny ways.

Untitled

to slip into a dream
while awake, that blurred line
that sharpens into focus only
when your eye opens and
a different world from a
a moment ago lies in
front of you,
of waking unsure of
if you slept or how long,
whether what just
happened was real
or just a dream

Cold

she marvels that she skied as long
as the temperature was above -20,
and now she shivers below 30, her
teeth chattering, her mood
plummeting as rapidly as
the temperature.

Friday Night without Yoga

He didn’t go to Core Yoga after all
last Friday night, preferring to get
a life, have a date, drink a beer.
It was tough at first, his arms twitching
to drop down into Downward Dog,
a pose we all learn at Harvard.
After a few beers, fully relaxed,
a beautiful woman at his side, he forgot
what he loved about Core Yoga.
It must not have been important.

Flying Pigs

They were waiting at the front door
this morning, several of them in their
modest brown coats, a few in black
and white, demanding as usual.
I was looking for the NYT to settle
in close to the radiator, drink a coffee,
watch the birds at the feeder.
The thugs at the front door demanded
that another task be completed first.
I pulled on my boots and trudged
through newly fallen snow to the
bird feeder, under many watchful
beady eyes.

Call me when you love me

she left me a message to
call her when I decided that I love her again,
is that love between the ten seconds
that pass when she is not on my
mind, in my mind, in my heart,
or when I am not writing
her before I leave for work, or at work
When would I call her when I
am not totally in love with her
as I have been from the
moment she entered this
world?

Boy Movies

I can’t quite imagine a girl
coming up with this plot:
the ultimate heavy duty vehicle,
the armored truck doing wheelies
in a high speed chase after a
botched heist, where money
cases blow up, men jumping to
their deaths from bombed out
warehouses or from gunshot
wounds from the other deranged
participants.
It’s a boy movie, I murmured to
S, as we walked out of the movie
theater. The next movie better
be a chick flick.

No One is Playing Basketball Tonight

No one is playing basketball tonight.
It’s dark outside, the ice lies in sheets
across the court, and it’s 16 degrees,
that’s Fahrenheit, not Centigrade.
No one is playing basketball tonight,
the court is empty, calling for his
companions, to feel the ball bouncing
across his asphalt, to see the
players jump up, touching the
rim as the ball swishes through
his hoop, hurtling downward
back towards the earth.

Two Slices of Pumpkin Pie

there were two pieces in the Tupperware container;
they were both the same size and so I couldn’t eat
the bigger one.
i ate a piece of one slice and meant to keep the
rest for later; i did wait until later, about 30
seconds later, and then another 20 seconds and
then it was gone.
i wanted the second slice and i wondered if
i could neatly slice away part of it without S
noticing and decided it would be obvious.
i hid the pie in another room and told him to
come over soon to eat his pie, before it
disappeared into the unknown.