dead fish

a fish died in our pond today
the first to go in eight years or so
not a floater, lying on the bottom
on his side, all alone

i scooped him out
laid him in the garden
and said words of goodbye,
he was white, formerly orange

i call it him
instead of it or she
don’t know why
surely doesn’t matter

the next day he was gone
don’t think he resurrected
something recycled him for dinner
so some good came out of it

last night

last night i slept floating
in a powdered soup mixture
of dream and train whistles
stirred once or twice
by wind in the trees
a creaking somewhere in the house
and a neighbor's running-barking dog

as last all became quiet
and very, very still
until grey cracked open by dawn
panned out as morning

leaves end

the fall colored foliage
fluttered then fell today
in a breeze
and all together
a veritable blizzard of gold

leaves that swirled around
blowing with a crinkling sound
fell in as thieves thick on the ground
now to rake the gold, clean the eaves,
but this gets old, by then it’s cold, geeze

brushing teeth

I am surprised how many times someone discovers this site by searching the Internet to find a poem about brushing teeth. This is a link to one of mine. One of mine? Who am I kidding? It's not as if I have six more stuffed under the mattress. It's one poem. A little one and it just happens to be about brushing teeth.

i'd love

i’d love to love you
a few weeks would do
to give my heart
but hold some back

could upset you, i suppose
can make you laugh, fix things
and will eat anything
we’d be happy, have fun

of course nothing would get done
soft touches, cold lunches
and warm smiles,
time simply divine

although, instead, if you’ll be my friend
no hearts will be broken
no wrongs need we mend
i’ll dream of the ocean

you go read a book
do your own thing
we’ll talk like sister and brother
although if you have time

call when you feel like
and i’ll come do you
up one side the block
and down the other

soft night train

no screeching last night in quiet light wind
the train was someone in grandma’s slippers
sliding along the linoleum kitchen floor
hardly going anywhere 

and the whistle was not a blaster
instead it gave soft puffs
like puh, with a long breath between the next muh,
mah, ma, as if needed to be picked up and cuddled

barack

a world class, educated man with loving family,
a cultural reflection of the JFKennedy era
Barack for all the people,
calling in truth and reason

he is spark to ignite hope
lain dormant long years,
to turn us away from hate and fear,
toward renewal of the glory days of America

American Dollar Pie

gas over four, now nearing two
I mean say wait - until election day
they’re not through, it’s gu gu candy, sudden death,
how fast can you chew? rots your teeth, hold your breath
dollar pie, can you sling it, do you have the move?
they’ll tap your phone, wait for what’s next,
can you say charge it? you’re the wrong sex, fair enough?

friends line up
get a little spillover of 700 bill
new car, new house up, up on the hill,
or a simple five star month hanging out
on rich man’s island in the tropics,
unlimited mai tais, hula girls included,
plus other unnamed topics
disclosure deluded
member f.d.i.c.

big three bailout

older, thinner and wiser now?
my new jeans have an ass but I don’t
and i can't get my belt tight enough
our thirteen year old Geo squeaked
until we tightened the belt and still
get forty-five miles to the gallon-city,
more than belts, sometime
tightening hurts, leaves welts
there are 50,000 automotive jobs
in the state of Alabama alone,
the Southern belt is squeaking
how many times did America indicate
it wanted more economical vehicles?
we didn’t buy in North or South Korea
I guess Ford had a better idea

in the end

writer Studs Turkel , age 96
champion of the little guy
worked in Chicago where over forty rounds
from an assault rifle went off in an apartment
a boy aged two was shot in the head
both are dead

learning curves

in schools they teach more, earlier
today's kids take after their mothers
and is it from drinking too much milk
that makes some dumber than udders?

lost time

we drove through the city
on a long, slow straight line
where traffic lights were timed
so we had to stop every block

testing brakes, trying raggedy nerves
I cruised on cigarette time, an estimate
of the number I could have smoked,
enough lost time it may have been a ufo abduction

phone book racket

do they think we wait for the new ones to arrive?
is a forest a year cut for paper?
hey, buddy, need a phonebook?
i have twelve already, thanks

most people use phone books once
to see if their name is in there
the bored or forgetful may check often
you know someone is making money on this.

major web site

at major company web sites
often a pop-up ad fills the screen
there is always an option to skip the ad
how many people watch the ad?

who pays for the pop-up ad?
and how stupid do we really think they are?
even if researchers say one of every seven watches the ad
that one who watches - they don’t want

fix it

fix the house
look around
there’s more to do
when you have it tight
you’re thinking what’s next

buy another house
you’ll fix that too
they fix everything but the great pyramid
probably fix that too, She said,
they just don’t tell anybody

IMPORTANT

this is important, computer stuff – the wireless is out
when I told her She departed the room
to do less boring and more meaningful
things with her life

re-did everything, wireless is way gone
computer friend says get an new external card
no waiting factory to send internal card, bought card,
didn’t fit, rewrapped very crushed box and returned it

computer friend says remove plastic drawer out then card fits
back to store, bought card second time - install disc no run
Koko thought cd driver g- g-g-gone
found tape g-g-g-glue on cd disc, cleaned it with alcohol

threw away plastic drawer, card fit
reinstalled card, let’s have a beer
kickback and listen to the radio, mate
on the wireless Internet

fall in my eyes

I was reading on the title on my blog
hah, everyday life indeed, you tell me
is there any such thing?

another thing - fall mornings start slower
don’t know why the sun keeps away like that
but let me tell you something, this Internet goes to the Southern Hemisphere
Australia, New Zealand, etc, I don’t have to name them
so they’re getting into summer - incredible

And, hey, we saw snow last night, just bits, and some sleet
i couldn't think of that word in English,sleet, it's that time of year
my Italian brain opens for business

window to the rains

through the large maple tree
I nearly ride on clouds flying in the moonlight
where they ought to be

and thinking the Captain is taking Isadora for
a nice freighter ride to southern Spain
and I didn’t go along, I was bumbling around
while their plans were in the air
and now they’re going to Barcelona
from there I could have taken an overnight ferry to Civitavecchia – neigh on to Roma, only fifty kilometers by train

it is so clear in retrospect, but it wasn’t that way before
and I didn’t want to leave Her at home alone for two months
although it would have been a vacation for both of us
it’s like looking into a mirror and right is turned to left
only I didn’t know what was right
and I never left

number you are calling . . .

I left a comment on Tom's blog about voting. A minute later the phone rang.

"Relax Sweetheart," I sweetly sang to her, "I'll get it. Do have some chocolate, Dearheart." I want to make this dialogue as true to life as possible in case this report is picked up by a major news service and circulated around the globe, uh . . . and the call could be something very important, maybe it's Tom thanking me for . . .uh, something ...

"Hello, Jack residence, Jack speaking. May I be of some assistance to you in your endeavors?"
No Tom on the line, shit. It is an Ohio official, I forget which one, calling in support of issue five. He was a recording anyway and was already speaking as I was still answering, that's how I knew it was a recording - so I couldn't tell him I voted yesterday.

I hung up, relieved I suppose, one less thing to do. Day complete, I can read now. Three seconds later the phone rings again. Phone defect? Should I answer? I pick it up because this could be very important. I don't say anything, I listen because he's already talking. I don't recognize the voice. It's a certain presidential candidate calling, another recording. Uh, I didn't vote for him anyway. I voted for change. I prefer the younger man. We have enough old farts in Washington.

days from November

near icy fast rain came cold on the wind
stirring then tossing tree’s colored leaves
beating yards, houses, fields and the road
so cold, it’s that time again

welcoming change seemed good reason
jacket tight and hood up I stood back to the blow,
for the first time this mid-fall season
we’re now just minutes from snow

times driftin'

times driftin' by the river
running dirty in the winter
hiding out from a January rain
backed up to the window again

two drifters by the water
lonely son and no one’s daughter
couple of days to set them at ease
couple of friends who just do as they please

times driftin', driftin'
could have worn the red wood deck out
waiting there for the time to check out
times driftin', driftin'

it's in the telling

She is telling me
of a talk show host
who doesn’t own a TV
while I speak about
digital data link layer protocol;
and that is why
even lovers box ears
and poems are not written everyday.

Brevity and Levity

brevity and levity
walked
hand in hand

brevity started to say
something...

levity just
laughed

i'd do it for you

through a mishmash of horrid dream I hear chains dragging
and a haunting of slippers shuffling the hall,
from under the covers I pop up to think of breakfast
and feel icy cold fright, hear scratching on the wall
is there bread for toast, are there eggs for two?
yes, it’s only four a.m., but, start the coffee, will you?

beware slimy ghost drippings on the stair
don’t get bitten
heading for the kitchen, don’t say I didn’t warn you,
keep your eyes closed until the lights are on
you can feel for the button,
i hope nothing grabs you
don’t be long
you know I’d come along
but I’m a little sleepy

About You

songs about you
someone should write some
songs about you,
you know I do, babe
this one’s for you

there was a time n April meant good fortune
that’s the time we met and started courtin’

now April comes it brings to me a sadness
wrapped around memories of madness

when kissing you was gasoline on fire
arcing like a hot electric wire

songs about you, someone should write some
songs about you, cause you know I’m through, babe
although this one’s for you, babe,
it’s the last one for you

away

welcome back, old friend
or have you never been here?
oh well, if it isn't said
it doesn't matter
and as for mattering silently
you are able to figure that one out
silently

i'd like to bring you up to date
then again, i like most things anyway
oh well, what's new for you?
why don't you write it down
and read it in two years

so it is a matter of priority, is it?
who's?
why not write that down too
take a look at what's happening for you
don't lie - that doesn't work
and don't waste your time reading this
i don't know anymore than you don't
know anymore
don't know

wind blows

wind blows soft
on the plains
everyday
soft as velvet
quiet and smooth
like a lovers touch
a comfort to men on the way
toward the storm

then wind blows hard as it tears away
at the hopes of each man
in it's way

wind blows hard leaving ruin to lay
after the storm

wind blows cold over the barren plain
stiff and bold to steal it's way
cross the endless road
leaving hopes as cold as the men
left behind

work again

standing up and wiping my brow
the sun hangs low
it’s quitting time
enough for today
time to put stuff away
i’ll wash up now
there’s more to do, of course
there always is
save some for tomorrow

with luck at all
some food and rest
i’ll be back
to do my best
to work again
to do my work again
it's what i do, how i live
knowing I’m taking care of you
makes it all good work

cards

I’ve looked at cards in the game
bet them hard, lost the same
seven in, several fold
kings up, jacks I hold
he has a pair and I have three
this one here belongs to me

another hour tables change
spades and heart rearrange
voices rise, drinks go down
one is sober, one is clown
friends together, time we pass
another game, another glass

seventh day

working on the seventh day
is Sunday in it's sobriquet
well away from Saturday
no such thing as holiday
looks well on the resume
but on Sunday i stay away

what's what

seeing what’s what around the house
while she’s picking up and straightening
did i make this mess?
well, seems good weather’s in the air
quiet as a mouse i stop on the stair

run fingers through my hair
can feel her stare
turn and smile to see her there
alas, two different people
but we make a fine pair