With Poe-try you can surely
get your Words' worth
So many words are waiting
like a Wolfe at your door,
for their Cummings into being.

If you listen, they Pound
upon your brain
They Lamb-aste your viscera,
making you Nash your teeth.
They create a Millay in your head.
So many shapes, so many Hughes

Lusting for Moore they Lear
at you when you least expect.
Look back at them!

Like Frost upon the windowpane
they write themselves,
then, when all is said and Donne
melt away too soon.

Grasp them when you can.
Put them in a Rowe
Taylor them to your muse,
use your Whit, man !

.......................................it                        ­     is
                                     a cat's                      duty
                                 ­ to be cute                 and purr
                           when petted to not come when called  
                          unless there is food involved and then
                      it should ( @ ) be fish, milk ( @ ) or cheese
                       beef in gravy, chicken in sauce or a can of
---------------smelly cat food that (**) makes the poor dog-----------------
 ----------------- salivate feeling  deprived as he looks at---------------------       
                            his dish of kibbles so dry so boring
                             thinking why not me I could be a
                                  cat I could learn to purr and         
                                          check me out I'm
                                              already cute
                                                   (    )
                                                   (    )
                                                   (    )

There is a countable
distance between
the silence
where I sit
and the street
where I see
a mobile cacophony
of pedestrians
of various speeds
and multiple gaits.
From singular  
to numerous bodies
together and apart.
A part of me wants
to join them
apart needs
to avoid them.
So I count the distance
between voices
and my thoughts
silently
hush now
urging them all to stop
and embrace the nearest one
and say without words
life can be beautiful
if we allow.

All night long
Below a darkening sky
Comes a howling wind
Drowning other sounds
Each gust stronger than the one before
Finally the rain begins to pour
Growling thunder in between
Heaven's anger seeming
Insatiable as lightning,
Jagged, burns
Knifelike slashes in the sky
Lighting up the darkened
Midnight hour
No end in sight
Only a brief occasional silence
Passing through
Quickly come and gone
Reverberating
Sound
Throughout the night
Until morning is slightly
Visible over the horizon
Wind quietens, rain becomes a drizzle
X-it the tempest as the sun's
Yellow rays bring the morning to lavender
Zinnias and sky-blue Forget-me-nots