spring ahead, fall back
who was the knucklehead's wife that came up with that one?
and other countries followed the lead?
can't we leave nature alone?
it's how the planet works ...
can't we live with it?
can a car be in river
water to the windows
and still work?
Before the Internet
you had to write a newspaper
to the column Ask Mechanic Bob,
or some one like that
who might answer your question
and were really five guys
working i an office
sometimes i work harder and sleep longer,
or drink more coffee and think of days
spent far away - other places, other times,
i'll take my pick, depending on the weather,
how the sun is shining, how the wind blows.
now where i'm sitting the sun is in my eyes;
but isn't it grand...because that's the same sun
you're looking at; amazing.
that's how it functions...
world without end.
you know, when i used to make a camp fire
wood would burn down and there'd be no fire.
the sun has been burning since before we were,
so how does it do that and not turn to ashes?
who's adding fuel to the fire?
just read February has been the warmest on record.
they say it will be 65 Fahrenheit today here in Ohio;
meanwhile Trump is complaining about the news media.
i'm glad there is something to read with coffee in the morning.
well, where is the snow?
it's the dead of winter...time for blizzards.
so where did it go?
certainly not as i remember.
kids have to play, you know...days off school.
while old people watch white pouring down,
thick on the ground, all around, packing us in.
this year i never had to look for my boots.
waiting for james.
he stopped by a month ago,
oregon to ohio,
to Boston, to Rome.
back with his brother
52 and 50,
the drummer and the unpredictable,
nicest guys i could know.
known 'em grow.
said he'd be here last week
that was the plan
now short hours away,
ahead of the snow.
he and Alex heading to Portland
while i read...check out the window,
waiting for james
tapped my spoon on the table,
no sugar for me,
ate enough cookies this week.
gazed out the window
saw more parking spaces than usual,
and fewer birds; seems they all
flew home for the holidays..
gazed more... thought
of warm water swimming,
took just one last cookie
such a beautiful Christmas tree
nearly twenty feet tall
in the neighbors front yard,
been watching it for years;
he's not using it anyway.
our ceiling at home reaches seven,
i only need some off the top.
i'll buy neighbor kids beer
have them cut the top at night
and deny involvement
forget the above. I remembered Gregory
Corso's beat generation poem about
learning to drive and
mowing friends down:
humor from another generation.
unkind doesn't work now
when we need to go easy,
we surly do.
we need kindness, even in humor.
october wind and warm/
still, pancakes for breakfast were just right/
wait...there aren't two voices in a poem./
his were different/
and yours is the same?/
well, not the same...You know i made your part up, don't you?
went to Oregon
bought marijuana in a store.
smoked a joint. it took three days.
didn't finish it all.
best i felt in years.
$9, it was fine.
couldn't bring any back to Ohio.
come on, America.
the young can bang heads playing football;
we old want to sit in a chair, relax
and feel good.
harvest moon so soon it seems,
though it's been a year;
this night i stayed in bed, didn't open the curtain to look.
Then a brilliant flash at three
and i counted the seconds eight, nine, ten, eleven...rumble.
again a flash - i counted to nine that time.
nine miles away.
i imagine the storm diminished
as i slept gain
until rolling thunder when i woke at six.
left to right, across the sky.
and the rain was louder than the train...two trains around seven.
pouring hard on and off this morning.
This night i slept well,
wrapped in good thoughts and dream.
how about you...how'd it seem?