(not) losing weight

really

calories don't count because the scale keeps 

                  going up and up and up

even though we're not eating any more than usual,

my friend and me,

a cup of yougurt:  137 calories

half cup of fruit:  42 calories

all said and done, less than allotted for today

and yesterday and the day before

she says she's puffy and bloated,

the little pouch on my tummy is still soft

and little spare tires are growing

but today I started counting and

I'm hungry

I don't like dieting.

my new bike

I got my new bike today

tomorrow I'll kick ass.

those  who have whizzed by me all these years

they will only see a streak of red go by

and feel the wind against their faces

I'll disappear into the distance

leaving them far behind

I'll feel so strong, so powerful.

no more stressing about working out,

about not working out.

I'd rather write poetry and make music.

tonight I'd watch TV but my love

is too tired so I'll read my book

and fall asleep, dreaming of my

new bike.

an invitation

if you are reading this,
come join our party.
we will be merry around a Christmas tree,
wine will freely flow
chocolates will melt on our tongues
the pungent smell of French cheese will fill our nostrils
the dog will be hoping for fallen crumbs
her nose close to the ground
her tail will brush against our stockinged legs
come join our party,
we welcome you to our midst
drink to holiday cheer.

frozen solid

it will be -4 tonight.
frost will form inside the double paned windows
there is no such thing as perfection.
a breeze will blow off the windows
there is no such thing as a perfect seal
when it comes to the shifting of an old house
that has seen floods, freezes and the killing heat
of a relentless dry sun.
i would freeze, my lips blue, the tears would turn to ice
i am glad to be inside where it is warm,
where a cozy bed awaits me,
I am thankful to be alive in this place
in this moment.
I am lucky not to be frozen solid.

innovation

i visited this place where a building was labeled

New Ideas, the Production building was down the street.

everyone looked smart and capable,

crisp, their brains were whirring with creativity

it was frightening and I wanted to get away.

they came up with ideas like

automobiles stacked one above the other, 

the ugliest building in the world,

each customer had to make an appointment

to get her car.

in my town, I see young men with man buns

and young women with tattoos on their forearms,

they are making new ideas.

I hope they are less frightening.

packing for Mars 2020

I'll wear my nicest pants and my black cashmere sweater.
this is what women think of when they'll be in a review
with the unknowns, mostly white middle aged men.
I could be surprised.
I'll bring my big brain and hope to get a chance to use it,
considering I have no review materials ahead of time
I'll wing it.
that's what the big boys do without hesitation,
I can do that, too
in my cashmere sweater and nice pants.

Supply Chain

Supply Chain.
A chain which prevents movement forward
A faceless crowd of bureaucrats ensnared in
rules of their own making,
Separation of church and state is nothing
compared with the separation of purchase
requisitions and purchase orders. notwithstanding
the material requisition which no one seems to
know how it is made, nor where it is needed.
I wait impatiently, I try to do their job
for them.
I need my project to move forward.

it's been ten days and nothing has been
ordered yet.
The Chain is around my neck,
strangling me and my
creativity.