spinning

two eggs, two pancakes, i ordered.
the chubby waitress, embarrassed
about her glasses; still cute and kind.
and the world goes on spinning;

sipped coffee by the window.
i see giant nimbus clouds roll by.
geeze, big as old sailing ships.
thought of mocking-birds, used to hear them.
Uncle Clifford's hand pump well,
and fresh, clean, country water splashing.

then outside, a drunk on a bicycle stops traffic.
he's old enough to know better.
and the world goes on spinning.
i'm glad there is nothing for me to hang on to
or i'd write the same poem every day.

nowsville

Oh, welcome thee of the illerati
now chillax.
click-bait and pocket monsters
sort them out; it will be.
i went dark yesterday, no one noticed
OMG, your guyliner is smudged

early morning train

slid the window open after three
dreamed clouds again until five-thirty
when, from long beyond
i heard the name say - i am train

calling low in light rain,
sweet voice, milk and thunder
clawing on wings of steel,
lonely is the night, strong, sure

swinging through, blasting,
rolling heavy on quick-wheel feet
powering around, long through, then out of town,
murmur lonely; cutting night stillness, like a blade on ice

iron maiden go, into first morning light
familiar friend, shaking windows with your power,
i smiled, low in bed, covered my head
slept another hour.



redone 7 17

wen fer

wen fer lunch,
place 20, count 'em 20
miles, long down on the straightaway.

going and coming back, also,
cause they more to dis story..
musta ha'seen over four...call 'em
five, cars on the road.

I'm tellin' ya...somethin' goin' on
right hereabouts in Ohio.
i'm happy as darn about it.
Eat chur corn, Roy.

eyebrows are

eyebrows are so
you can look startled
curious, interested,
or angry

eyelids are for winking
and closing out light
the part of the night
when you're sleeping

crying is for babies
and feeling better, after

the antique clocks run a week;
how often i must wind them.

booming

95 and humid a third day.
clouds belly down and booming
at noon, drop a fortune of water;
gardens are not opposed.

heat

the extreme heat of this afternoon
creeps inside where it's cooler
and gets me sleepy
at least for a nap's worth

cell phone dilemma

major red alert,
cell phone is missing -
the pulse of my life line.
gone but not forgotten.

went back where i had coffee.
questioned everyone repeatedly.
most seemed honest in their replies.
evidently i didn’t leave my phone there.

staggered home dejected.
instead of crying right away,
dumped big trash can in the drive.
two cops driving by stopped to watch.

i put it all back,
took a half hour,
searching the sticky mess
a piece at a time.

then brilliant idea
struck like lightening. wow.
i asked the cops to call my cell number
and put it on speakers in their car.

if the rat face sleaze at the coffee place answers
i’ll recognize his wheezy, whiny voice.
from the squad car they let me dial,
misdialed my cell number several times.

chatted with interesting people,
talked longer with the nice ones
a few wrong numbers were angry,
cops were growing impatient.

i suggested, “Lend me a dollar, i’ll call
for a medium pizza, split it three ways,
if you drive us to pick it up.”
cops were unhappy.

head down, i kept dialing.
finally got the right number.
two seconds later
my pocket rang.

a.

tumble and never fall
clouds do

b.

i hate cloud poems
with the word fluffy in



.

wellington

Wellington, a forgotten town
a line drive 22 miles east of Norwhere
where 18 crosses 58...
the heart of nothing special but goodness.
an old, tin-pressed ceiling cafe is large, welcoming.
no music, no TV, the hum is locals talking quietly.
cheery Karen from the other day seats us.
glassed in, on the corner over coffee we view
big-rig, cross-town traffic,
the action at the center of the berg.
sipping, we decide how to take two eggs
with two pancakes...too early
for too many decisions; no rush,
all is well...in Wellington

every 17 years

near Shiloh
The other day we heard them...
like crickets, over the hill somewhere.
I pointed so she would know
what hill they were over.

M said,"Those are locusts. They live in the
ground and come out every seventeen years."

I really glared at her. "I know that...
do you think I'm stupid?"

She paused, looked toward the hill,
then said, "That's a dumb question."

open window

slept by an open window,
dreamed poetry
until sunshine ran over it
and left me plowed.

good day, some say, sometime;
sunshine, here's to you
from the bottom
of my heart.

dream from where

often i have dreamed poetry,
a few words, an idea.
when writing poetry every day
my dreams were poetry ideas,

then in the morning
i'd write from those ideas.
last night i dreamed mdf: 236748,
mdf: 566924, mfg: 73479

there was a paragraph space
then another series of letters and numbers.
i had a page of these letters and numbers
all single spaced and

still sleeping i noticed what i was reading.
it was a print out i had been reading;
after a bit of time i was still sleeping when
i noticed what i was reading/dreaming

don't know what it was
but when i woke i remembered
this strange dream
and wrote it down.

the cart

Walking into Walmart
I put my cane aside when
a mysterious voice said,
"Use the cart, Luke...use the cart."

dandelions are

dandelions are
good; so very, very good.
good wine, they're edible,
bright in spring, rich in
vitamins A, C, iron and calcium,
health benefits include
relief from liver disorders, diabetes,
urinary disorders, acne, jaundice,
cancer and anemia; also for
maintaining bone health, skin care
and as a benefit in weight loss;
they're cheery to look at,
and naturally, people want to kill them
so double-damn bad.

a half hour down to Shiloh

M was inside getting plants
i was standing by the car
an old man in jeans, jacket and straw hat came out.
we talked a few minutes about
the good spring weather finally here,
the noisy storm we had last night.
i told him we lived in noralk, in town,
about here to that buggy behind the fire department.

he went on down to his buggy
an old woman wearing a long dress and bonnet
came out and joined him.
they turned the fine horse around
and began to leave.
as they passed by,
he and i wished each other a good day,
and they rode away.

big maket

m went into the store,
i waited in the car, reading, window open.
many people walking in the lot,
heard this constant, serious, deep-voiced, hushed monotone.
an older guy a short distance away,
standing between two dark cars,
ball cap on, talking, shoulder up,
neck angled, holding something to his ear,
speaking into this brown,fuzzy thing,
like a cover so i couldn't see the phone,
his eyes darted ahead and around.
an undercover job going down?
heard his voice, couldn't make out the words,.
waited for the swat team to drop from the sky.
after ten minutes nothing happened.
then i saw ball cap guy is holding
a small, fuzzy dog to his ear,
and never shut up.

safety first

they have barricades on bridges
high enough so driving over
you won't look at the water
and drive into the river

so why not up and down the streets of towns
don't they erect walls on each side
so bright colors on fancy-dressed manikins with new shoes
won't cause you to make a right turn
and drive over parked cars, through the store windows?

Paul Simon

Paul Simon you wrote the
words and melodies for so many;
and today I woke with one your songs
dancing in my head, smiling inside me

The Cleveland Orchestra

The New York Times declared
"America's most brilliant orchestra"
in Oberlin's Finney Memorial Chapel
the most extraordinary
Cleveland Orchestra

filled us with music;
sweet, clear and precise.
we gave them attention,
they gave to our hearts.

code red

how many passwords
are in my head?
keep scrambling
code master

uncertain

here is april in ohio
when alternate days of snow and rain do bring
weather still uncertain
if it's winter or it's spring

sometime skys are like that

look at them, rolling rain-heavy dark clouds,
a giant, scattered stripe in the east
across a blue sky background.

she wanted to take a picture
was driving, so she pointed instead.
i looked and remembered.

low sun, long fields
a wow to see
this good Ohio morning.

coffee and i see

coffee and i see
the day before yesterday's snow out the window.
silent as all get out;
a nothing special morning...
that's what makes it special.

winter lake walk

beige lake, movement in gray
sparkling streaks on surface,
few white gulls, under wing makings dark blue ,
held on the wind, banking, dipping like kites.

winds hum...a hollow sound
over golden fields, under azure sky
tops of passing cars are seen beyond fields
low clouds trimmed in gray, follow in a line like a train

small voice of child passing, marching behind dad
infrequent words spoken - sunny, cool
few blowing leaves, short cropped fields
thin woods, brown trees, little shade

still, cold

still, cold,
third day in ohio
january ending
expecting weather like winter

three minutes in the store
in shiloh, m shops
i'm waiting in the car, making notes
shopped a swiss mocha to drink

cool out, do doubt
morning on a bright sun saturday
what a day - so clear
between snows

birds

among my favorite life forms
are birds - in an out, on their way;
no time for exchange with me.

they have agendas that can be
loosely categorized as seasonal behaviors:
young meet, maybe dance a bit,
never socialize with in-laws, mate, build nests
keep the eggs warm, bring food for the kids
instruct them on living; to hunt and peck,
gather food and head south for the winter.

when I'm around they land on the fence
check me out, then go,
not a deep relationship to build on.

to their credit: you know, they
never, ever, have a worried expression on their face;
no lips could be the reason.

eyes are open (have three eye lids)
blink fast and do their things.
their big plus is: wings -
they sure can fly.

a northern hemisphere poet

A Northern hemisphere poet i am
in winter cold, summer heat,
  technology has taken my words around the world
i'll remain where i was born.

in january snow, frozen water
april showers, colorful flowers;
spring off to summer heat
fall leaves golden, falling, crackling,

thanksgiving then christmas
'til the end of the year
when begins another.
short days to long ones.

good sun, wobbling earth
summer for baseball
winter for snow balls and ice skating -
cycle long and short days.

when hundreds of years asleep at near light speed
to another planet, new ways to learn;
leave me the old fashion ways
in days i know...where i'm from.

through the silent halls of time
i'll take mine as i know them;
now before you go off in a flash,
one thing, please, take out the trash.

Norwhere where

the lake is a pond, half-mile long,
sans clouds,wind, birds or fish jumping.
mid-afternoon reflects trees on the opposite side
a slight blur of red and blue in light haze sky.
still the water, absolutely
this beautiful prewinter day
quiet, lovely as can be, i say.