Missing Pages

pages 1 - 45 are missing.
I look, incredulous
that a stack of pages could go missing.
how can one start a book on page 46,
half way through chapter 3
without the faintest idea of what
happened in chapters 1, 2 and
half way through 3.
I would burn this book.
I would put it out of its misery, this book.
Yes, but.
it belongs to the library so a little yellow
post-it note will be attached telling its
sad story.
I hope the library burns it on Halloween
in a huge bonfire, the flames lighting
up the faces of beautiful children.

books

four from the library
four from the used book store
fifteen released to meet other eyes.
such are the lives of books.
i smell the countless scents of readers
in these used books, invisible stains
from multi- colored fingertips,
brown eyes and blue, grey hair
and red, fast readers and slow,
the ultimate dilemma is which to
read first, accompanied by which
wine.

rain

I played rain
in scales, arpeggios,
double tonguing and trills.
the rain ran down my tongue
into my mouth, its cold trickle tickled
the clouds rising up against my palate
and I sang out in rain drops
until a rainbow emerged
from the clouds.

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.