* * *
The neighbor’s garden
is at my disposal.
I feel richer in what I don’t take
than in what I do.
Is there a cure for this?
When the bread has little holes
and hasn’t been soaked overnight,
I dip each slice quickly and put it
in the pan. Then I spoon-feed the
excess egg mixture slowly and gently
over the pores of its upper surface.
By the time I’m done spooning, it’s
ready to be flipped anyway. Some-
times fleshing out a poem is like that:
lingering attentively, filling in gaps.
NATURE WALK NATURE
I do the thing
to be alone;
to think, or not;
and, as I roam,
to breathe fresh air—
breathe freely too.
What will change,
if I’m with you?
[ASIDE: The syntax is wrong,
but I don't like "What would change"
or "when I'm with."]
When your cat pees
on your bed or rug,
you clean things up.
What else can you do?
Then your cat pees
(uncontrite and smug)
in that same place
the moment that you’re through.
Take a newspaper article and black out words
to leave a coherent poem of the remaining words
in their original sequence. I tried this twice.
The author said,
"I fell wildly in love with this child."
Completely unprepared for this new role,
she made plans to write a memoir
of not just her own experience
but those of other writers;
all the hidden pleasures and perils
of being a grandmother.
She wanted it to be true,
convinced that all baby boomers
are traveling in uncharted waters
If there's anything she's learned,
it's this: "You need to be supportive
and keep your mouth shut."
Author speaks Sunday
about her reaction
to the birth of her first granddaughter.
heartbroken, furious, devastated."
Asked to write an essay
about being a grandparent,
she didn't change names or anything.
"It provoked feelings in me,
not all of them charitable.
There's something scary
about being a grandparent."
Copies will be available for purchase
at the Sunday event.
Are you that overwhelmed?
Has it lost its allure?
(A near-midnight start
for this pome du jour.)
Cheese and crackers,
cheese and crackers,
cheese and cheese,
and cheese and crackers.
Fruits and veggies have no backers
in this house of cheese and crackers;
have no home among these slackers.
of the common
Poorly-painted red words
on poorly-painted white boards
advertise a roadside stand:
"jams" "jellies" "peaches" "tomatoes"
The largest sign recommends:
Thanks to a stint in Texas, I do.
[ASIDE: On this one, Fay Jean Royce commented:
"An Arkie lass with Texas sass!"]
In your vicinity,
at your approach,
you may notice
a flutter of wings,
a sudden splash.
the more sensitive,
shy, and subtle
have already taken
their leave, leaving only
a broken twig.
disappear so quickly
we don’t even suspect
What have I really done
for this world;
what have I really done?
Whom have I saved or salved
in this world;
whom, when, why—
and what from?
GOING TO POT-BELLY
“Do you think your skin
holds your innards in?”
“Fat chance it does—
because my face has turned to scowls and jowls;
because each thigh’s the size my waist once was;
because my upper arms (once like a girl’s)
now flap just like a flying squirrel’s.
Do I think my skin
holds my innards in?
Not one bit, because—
I have witnessed tears and boobies drop.
Plus, my belly slops over undie tops.”
AMEN TO THAT
As I take this food, I choose:
health, delight, and gratitude.
three to learn.
One to teach.
One to observe;
one to learn
* * *