Poems

Beta Bet

 

Anguishing over principles

battering my

core values and

directing my thoughts in

ever more eccentric

formulations and confabulations

generating almost a

hysterical atmosphere

including creation of multiple

jingoistic but nonsense notions of

knowing truth from

lies perpetrated by

minions of self-styled

neurotic partisans

organized into a radical

posse comitatus hell bent to

quarantine my logical

responses and ultimately

sequester my every

thought into an

unbalanced rabidly

vicious view of the

world prompting

xenophobic contempt

yelling and demanding a

zero hour reboot.

Silkworm, 2016

 

I don’t want to go to New York….

 

decided not to go to a

reunion with two New Yorkers

fifty-six years after we all graduated

from the same high school

no words, photos or even thoughts—

the only reason to consider the trip

was the invite of a good friend who gets off

on life stories, but for me,

without contact or interest, even puerile–

let me tell it spare and bare,

I don’t care about their lives

it’s enough to deal with

family and a few friends

who don’t want or need to

hear recalled accomplishments past or

     fame fleeting

concentrating on limited visions

in limited time is enough for me

 

 

Bread and Butter  (A pound of butter is four sticks)

 

Four or five sticks of butter,

not heavy, but understandable.

Less than 24 week preme,

weighs the same but

almost incomprehensible.

Viable, maybe,

desirable, it depends,

difficult, yes,

technology helps,

the ultimate outcome,

unpredictable.

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