a little further down the street

I say YES.

They say NO, but my sign is a little further down the road

the drivers will remember the last photons that hit their glazed eyes,

they'll notice the sign attached to the antique bike, not the one

stuck into the grass, artificially green thanks to Monsanto

or some other comglomerate,

the sign that simply says NO, instead of YES to 

something we would want.

There is no perfect solution, but I prefer

yes to no.

doing science at home

science as exploration

no degrees needed,

materials of your choice,

your questions, your criteria

your life.

Presbyterian Republicans

I worked with one today,
side by side, cheek to jowl,
She's going on retreat this weekend
to Presbyterian camp, she's a staunch
Republican.
I wondered who shares her beliefs and
found him on the first search for
Republican Presbyterian.
She matches Trump in so many ways,
the pinched superiority, the fake friendliness,
I smell this a mile away, but we go on
and work side side by side
 like good colleagues do,
we will never be friends,
I will never trust her
like I would never trust Trump.
I learned from hard experience.

her message

she's 81
300 days a year she travels
to spread the word
the light shines in her grey hair
her eyes are bright and alert
she does this for love.
she does this to save them and ourselves,
to wake us from our slumber
before it's too late,
before the storms decimate our homes
before people lose their homes forever to rising seas,
before our food supply is threatened,
we are buried under feet of snow or parched in drought
even more.
she reminds us,
we must remember,
we must change.
how will you change,
how will I.

quiet

i love the silence
of no one but me being home.
i love the feel of my sitz bones on the hard wooden seat.
i'm alive
and so are you.
i smelled the reek of marijuana on a respectable
man's breath this evening.
it's legal now and he feels good.
he feels alive and is smiling
even thought i know he works very hard
and argues with his wife.
i love the look of the multi-colored clothing
strewn across the floor even though it's
messy.
i love making up music that sings
like poetry.
who would have thought.

home sweet home

a new version of a riverboat, nothing fancy

but it's home, the gentle rhythm of the stream 

rocks him to sleep, he lassos his boat to the

bank and dozes off, hopeful that another

day will come without a visit from the police.

it's dawn and we walk across the bridge,

the tip-tap of our feet will drift in and out

of his dreams and he'll turn in his sleep

and doze off again.

he was there three days and disappeared.

the police came, his dreams were 

shattered.

all you need

on a beautiful day

a small tent is all you need

to watch the stars circle above you at night

the earth crosses the moon

and the lights go out,

our eyelids droop and the book falls away,

our dreams picking up the last words

and filling in the rest as our arm

twitches under the light covers.

it's all you need, a small tent 

in the desert, a bottle of wine,

some good cheese, a loaf of

French bread and someone

you love.