Saturday, May 09, 2009

four-thirty a.m.

got up to think
about whatever I was dreaming
such a good thought
but couldn’t remember
so I changed my mind
like changing socks, changing a tire
a suit of clothes, walking a wire
clothes on the line
a suit of cards
sew my clothes, trim my nails
bust my balls, change my mind
back to sleep,
suits me fine
need to think
drift the brink
let’s go , Dream Maker
deal me in

dark flight

the first hours of a nine hour flight this day
were shaded from the light
It worked out that way
lamps down, shades drawn

made the flight a transition
like diving
beginning with trepidation, anticipation
then splash enter
another world

hold your breath, swim a few strokes
more than familiar,
it became comfortable

m. is in the row ahead of me
center section of the plane
the middle of three seats
a good speed for the engines
flight very smooth

for the first time I use her earplugs
that deaden the sound
put on my slippers
and turn on an overhead lamp
the entire experience in the half empty
smooth riding jet became

like reading comfortably in my living room
only I’m speeding ahead seven hundred mph
and not watching where we're going

Thursday, May 07, 2009


in an old bog,
still and hidden in the woods
a twig falls into the waters
concentric circles that no one sees
run away

by the sea or from a hill
follow the west bound
yellow sun go orange, to red,
to purple, going down

we spin
it rings
and comes up again
thank god it remains

I stumbled on it
twice today
just walking
she saw it roll
and picked it up
a ring

time to return

Birds do it, bees do it. It must be good for you or at least a lot of fun. Yes it is fun. This isn’t about knock your socks off sex. This is migration.

First there were signs of a change in the weather when I quit wearing my heavy coat. Then my jacket was put aside. Yesterday I wore just a t-shirt. Tomorrow we fly from our winter Rome to summer Ohio.

nearly summer
time to return
this morning as i prepared hard
to get my things in order,
well, thinking about it,
she said to me,
i know how you’ll pack
a bunch balled up in a suitcase
with wires sticking out

i wasn’t angry with her
in fact i laughed inside, hah, like that
because of my ability to recognize love
in it’s many forms
and know i have warm feelings for
wires and stuff like that
and then made a sandwich

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

a Rome tourist

for a few hours
walked around and questioned
a new tourist friend
capable and active

did you see . . . . . . . . .
yes, yes, and more yes
more than many, enough in a week
to digest a long while

every one soaks it up at their own pace
some leave and run
for new grounds
i came back for more

twenty years later
here i am still sorting it out,
soaking it in, and
not quite sure what to make of it

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

blog nature

the second nature of the blog
is like that of a marsh mellow
sugar frosted, and plump
lance it on a stick, over an open fire
it’s exciting, it’s fun, it shines,
flashes into flame
burns, sags, dips and crashes
what a finish, what a shame

Monday, May 04, 2009

did laundry

did laundry at nine
at Luciano’s across the wild busy street
found a hole, didn’t get hit
always meet Luigi the chef there
had coffee and talked
to pass our weekly wash hour
he does embassy parties
today another recap

an embassy place wealthy over the top tacky
impossibly thick marble table
gaudy claw handle chairs
a cardinal and three others
had four bottles of wine with dinner
two bottles of white and two of brunello di Montalcino
at fifty euros a pop
it’s good to be the king

it was my last Monday until the fall
i’ll miss the stories and the chaos of Roma
we walked back talking across the busy Corso
between speeding buses, taxis, autos and motorcycles
to the other side without pause in our steps
it was easy cause we’re well practiced
and didn’t get hit

i depend

i depend
on the people around me
even ones i know only by sight
to be there, familiar

every now and then to pass by
so i remember that
we are all different parts
of this same soup

Sunday, May 03, 2009


walking down the grey street
i think about when i was
lying in bed and remember
waking at four with ideas
hitting me in the head
like dropping golf balls
in a porcelain bathtub
blam, blam, blam

and i duck to no avail
deal with them later
and wonder how, holy cow
would an open umbrella help
Plink, plink what do you think
What do you say, but the golf balls
dropping bam, blam, bam, ping, ping, ideas
hitting me and I write ‘em down as they fall
work them over, rush them out,
i’m in clover,
then fall back asleep

until morning comes, when all is quiet
dawn as it ought to be
so was i walking
down the street
i think
was i

technical question

do colors
keep changing
or do i have to take my
web browser back
for a refill?