Saturday, June 13, 2009

Frog One-One - Reprise

Now in these hollow frogless times, indulge me as I turn back to a year ago for this forgotten frog favorite.



Frog One-One

i got in the car
and drove to the shopping plaza
it was about empty and i was going slowly
driving in circles
in the parking lot
my brain was on overdrive

my turn signal on
it blinked, but i didn't
until i nearly ran out of gas
and then about cried when i realized it was true
cause i triple checked, twice
there was no store called
Frog Aid

i want to explain, dear reader
we saw them, well she pointed them out to me
now there are four
like a Sergio Leone movie
four, tall in the saddle
well, . . . in the pond

and she says they're the same four
"Which same?" i yelled

"Say that three times fast," she said
as she did it, "Which same, which same, which same."

i tried and couldn't do it
once i had to read a commercial for Misses Pauls Fish Sticks in L.A. at KBIG
and i finally turned it over to Dave the Slave in the midnight cave,
another announcer, cause i couldn't say fish sticks smoothly

"which same" gave me the same trouble
as fish sticks

but my gut feeling told me
these are all new guys
four hiding, sneaking frogs
lurking out there
waiting for sundown

i drove home, cause i knew what i had to do

"Frog One-One, may I help you," the voice said with authority

"That's what I want to know. There's four in the pond."

i heard him drop the phone

then, "Is anyone at home?" he asked.

"I'm calling from home."

"Get out of town!" he said.

"I'm on my way."

"No, I mean are you kidding?" he asked.

"Uh, . . . what part?"

dial tone

that was two hours ago
i've been back at the shopping plaza parking lot
driving in more circles
determined to find a
Frogs Are Us
. . . i need to make a donation

Friday, June 12, 2009

four a.m. again

open my eyes to red glowing lights
that read four a.m.
i’m thinking poetry
in absolute silence
where words float in

then sitting I’ve got jazz
passages in my head
for Some Enchanted Evening
hearing Enzio Pinza sing a few lines

i didn’t play anything
didn’t hear anything
just started thinking about,
it’s a hell of a way to wake up

does my creative friend Larry do this?
he was a master writing songs
but i know he’s in the world of
corporations, meetings and charities
grounded in realities of this world

that thought morfs into
Patrick’s guitar that he loaned me
butter in my hands
that may have slid the course of my life
into another direction
and i gave back cause it was
his dead brother’s
even though Patrick couldn’t play
or was so busy so busy with other things
would never would have thought to miss it

and Lonesome’s rifle that i returned cause
the squirrels stealing feed never hurt the chickens anyway
and the hard drinking girlfriend
used it to shoot Cutter dead
standing outside an open window
gave him a bullet to his head
and got only seven years
maybe cause she told he had cancer bad anyway
she said she loved him

and it’s nearly dawn,
street lamps just turned off
the coffee i’m putting on
good morning world
life’s a song isn’t it?
how are you doing anyway?
waking easy i hope
thinking too much
is a hell of a way to wake up

Thursday, June 11, 2009

oiling

was putting linseed oil on the plank floors of my lab,
it used to be the cookhouse
back when it was constructed in 1838,
as i do, the old place needs tender maintenance

my knees ache from today’s labor
but i cleaned up, and one more section’s finished
M. went out to town for food shopping,
she’ll put a fine meal together by sundown

now sitting here typing, working these words out
i see she just drove in the drive, and it’s a good thing,
though life together isn't always a bowl of cherries
i’d sure miss her if she wasn’t around

too bad we couldn’t just oil up each other,
rub it in slowly with a nice soft cloth
in easy circular motions
until we both looked and felt like new

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

stronger than steel

after several days parked under a tree
our car developed a spider web on the rear bumper
a massive heavy weave laden with the insects
that swarm a few days every June
when north winds carry them in a cloud
across Lake Erie from Canada

I tore off three corners of the web
and left a major strand holding the load
of snagged Canadian soldiers
and thought of it dangling as I drove
to a nearby store, then home again

as I passed one car I wondered
did he see my web flapping like a pennant
I wasn’t ashamed, oh contraire, i was nearly proud
it was an experiment
what man made thing
could hang tight in a torrent of wind like that?
certainly not me by my shirt
or maybe not me from my belt
strand for strand it is said spider webs
have an incredible tensile strength stronger then steel,

so after a few wind blown minutes to the store and back
I pulled the car into our drive, parked,
then immediately checked the web
it was gone

Monday, June 08, 2009

hyphenation

why do only women do it?
I’ll hyphenate my name
to honor my mother’s family
give me a bigger name
to confuse and aggravate people

wait, instead I’ll do it right
and use a commercial product
and perhaps the company will
send money for the endorsement
call me Jack Sender-Campbell Soup



(cash or money order only)

Sunday, June 07, 2009

four thirty-seven a.m.

when I looked at the clock
it was wholly night - totally

big still and darkness
hung air

no wind blew
nothing could be heard

no trains, no traffic
no light
no frog, birds asleep, insects quiet
it had become the meaning
silent night