Category: Poetry
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Found On The Beach
The corroded motel key, wrapped in kelp, Is a gift of titillating love from the imagination. Too much on the beach is trash. Cigarettes, jagged glass and excrement to name a few, shamefully discarded Along with spent marine life serenaded by flies. Once misplaced, or, tossed in anger, This key now rests in my museum…
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Gunfire
It’s past time for a rhyme When the hands of a clock Are stopped by a Glock In classrooms and churches And the shopping mall, Shots fired, people killed For no reason at all. Speechmakers have worn themselves out, Their words have little weight We already know the score by heart, We already fear our…
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Full Moon Shrine (revised)
In the 1970s I was always driving a VW Bug in need of work. One time on Route 66 in the dead of night somewhere in New Mexico I looked in the rear-view mirror expecting the lights of a semi, Instead, a bright glow filled that tiny piece of glass. Pulled to the side of…
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Full Moon
I was driving a VW Bug in need of work on Route 66 Somewhere in New Mexico in the dead of night When I looked in the rear view mirror to see if a semi- tractor-trailer might pass me— When one did, it shook the car so I had to hang on tight to the…
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Dust Storm Delirium
Most of my mistakes are in Laramie In a motel room with a loose screen door Banging randomly in the wind And it’s windy and I’m waiting for the next bang While trying to forget I just had the worst meal ever across the street At a diner I can’t see anymore because of the…
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Jesus Under the Freeway
Motorists stopped at a red light see Jesus every day Under a Sacramento freeway, bearded with long hair, Blankets draped around his shoulders, barefooted, Eyes fixed beyond those near his path– He’s seen unimaginable suffering Until the driver behind me honks And all is to be forgotten.
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Explaining War
Sergeant Rooney In a hospital bed Sergeant Rooney’s face Explains war To the backs of a Two-star general And a beauty queen. — Backstory: I wrote this the day a two-star general and Miss New Jersey (1971) were visiting Walson Army Hospital, Fort Dix New Jersey. I was finishing up my two-year stint in…
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Rusty Chair
I do my deep thinking on a rusty chair By the ocean with no cell phone service. Yesterday, I remembered the runaway truck, Plowing through a spent cornfield Just east of my childhood. Didn’t scream back then, I was young with time To right the ship. Now that I’m old, I sit on this rusty chair…
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