Olfactory Man

Nature has a gift
for men
when they lose their fathers.

The older we get
the more we smell
like them.

Sideways

I wrote this about my dog Jake, who passed on July 17. I meant it to be sweet, but like so much of our life together, it went a little sideways (in a good way).

I gave my dog a piece of my heart
To carry for a while.
He gave me all of his
And did it with a smile.

I sent him off to college
He took my piece with him
But I’ve still got his heart with me
Inside a little tin :)

Wrapped

It’s a simple thing:
A wedding ring.
A little band of gold.

But every morn
I put it on
To tell the world I'm "sold".

I said "I do"
And I meant it true
Even when we're old.

Birthday Girl's Lament

(to the tune of "My Girl")


I want sunshine
on my damn birthday.
It's still cold outside
and it's almost May.

chorus:
Well, I guess you'll say
what can make me feel this way?
Seattle (seattle, seattle!)
Fuckin' Seattle. (Seattle!)

I've got so much water
I've got prunes for feet.
It's been cold so long
I don't believe in heat.

(chorus)

I don't need no mountains,
or green covered hills.
The cold and the people
make me want to take pills.

(chorus)

Fuckin' Seattle.
I want sunshine on my damn birthday!
Seattle...
I'm tired of all these cloudy days
Seattle...

Poeta Vox Vocis

I find myself

vexed

by that lugubrious animal

The Poet's Voice.

You know it.

As it takes a piece of beauty

and rends it

piece

by

piece

with unexplained

pauses

and odd rushes of breathless heartless pointless babble

so unlike a brook that I can brook no reading

that treats its subject so harshly.

Poems are precious

not precious,

as poets recite them.

They are lively.

They should move with a natural flow,

like a happy creek,

not creak along

like an old man

with narcolepsy.

Inauguration Day

I have done nothing to deserve this.
I did not march.
I did not call.
I did not show up, when I said I would:
I went to dinner instead.

But I am here now,
on this day,
with all these people,
around the world,
and I am so happy I can cry.

I stand with the old guy
who flips Bush the bird.
I smile with the young boy
who gives out tickets for the show,
so carefully and intently.

This day is a gift
like so much in my life.
I have done nothing to deserve this,
but I am grateful all the same.

Holes I Have Known

They come
into your life
by chance?
by luck?
by design?
I can't tell.
They cuddle, and frolic,
and work their way deep
deep
into your life.
So when they go
they leave a hole
that never fills.
You just learn
to walk around it.

Island Time

Island time is marked
by the horn on the ferry.
As I sit on my butt,
on my back
on my front
on the water, in my kayak
without a watch, or a phone, or a care,
and the day spins away
with the osprey and the gulls,
the horn intercedes
every hour
telling all who will listen
that it's too late
to get off of this rock.
Better luck next time.