You’re a bumper riding
Traffic sliding
Maniac on wheels.
You make me want to
Back up into you
So you know how it feels.
You’re a narcissistic
Unrealistic
Self-important brat.
Somebody needs to
Bend you over a knee
To show you where it’s at.

You may be a good daddy at home
And your family is glad to see you.
But when you get behind the wheel
Other drivers are sad to see you.

You zip around us fast
Breaking traffic laws.
And flipping us the finger
If you get a blow out
Or maybe hit a tree
Perhaps nobody will linger.
We’ll shake our heads
We might call the cops
And sadly report the wreck,
But to tell the honest truth
It’s hard to feel sorry if your
Rudeness breaks your neck.

You may be a loving hubby at home
But not out on the street,
The way you treat your neighbors
Is anything but sweet.

If there is anything to karma
And of course, to dharma
You will get yours soon.
The payback should eventually
Teach you not to be so much like
The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
What’s the hurry anyway?
Where are you rushing to
In your hiked-up truck?
You’re not dead yet
Thus so far you haven’t run
Through your streak of luck.

I’ll keep on loving you
Long after you start to
Look like your mother
Though she looks much
Too much like her brother.
I’ll keep on laughing at
The groaner puns you make
And eating the cakes
That taste like meatloaf
From Blavian yak ****
Because that is what,
To me, true love is.

It doesn’t take a wiz kid
To see what nature did
And I am sure I will be
A cartoon version of me
When I get to that stage
Where age has altered us
To having rear-ends like a bus
And skin like the spin cycle
Before the dryer gets there.
We’ll have hair like lint
To match the laundry bent
Of the last four lines.

And I know I won’t mind
Because it’s you I adore
And that is what love is for
To help us ignore the stuff
Like belly button fluff
And farting unashamedly
Even though we are blamedly
Guilty as recharged, stinking.
I am guilty of thinking
Things will continue to get worse
Until the nurse considers ******
When nobody heard her.

You can't save a loser
They have to save themselves.
No matter how you love them
You can’t breathe for someone else.
You can’t pay their emotional bills
With the love stored in your heart.
You can’t be with them 24/7
So it’s best for you to start
Waking to reality’s demands
And wash your hands
Of this self-destructive fantasy.
Soon, even they will understand.

And if they don’t see wisdom
In what you are trying to do
Let them go on and ruin their life
But it won’t be because of you.
Maybe you think it is too late
Because you spoiled them already,
So now they need your guiding hand
To keep their courses steady.

If you’re strong enough to realize
You’re not helping them a bit
You can gather enough love
And strength enough to quit
Babying someone who today
Is no longer just a little child.
Let them find their own rock bottom
At the risk of being totally wild.
It’s really the only thing to do.
So, if you are the wife, the friend;
Sister, father, brother or mother,
You will find you have the time
For you and the loser to recover.

There was no music in my life
So I invented a violin.
It sat on my table and I watched;
My hand slid across the smooth wood,
It gave me not a sound.
I shut my eyes;
In my head I listened for a note
But it refused to share.
The precision of form,
Perfection of line
This instrument taunted me
And left me deaf with my dreams.
I recalled how I had been caressed
By it’s sweetness on many a lonely night--
Surrounding the silence with silky tones.
I am left with the dying embers
And haunted by its cold closeness.

Profligate pundits and
Philandering plutocrats
Promulgating pusillanimous
Pandering polecats
Put partially putrescent
Punks and pettifoggers
Past pitifully puny pollsters
Pushing the party politics
Of petrified pashas.

Disgusting demagogues
Dealing delayed death
Deeming democracy dying
Deny diplomacy daily
Deftly develop departments
Defending discrimination
Dividing deities from devils
Draining dedicated duties
With disgusting dictatorship.

Sorrowfully sublimated
Citizens of society slide
Swiftly and sequentially into
Sibilant session of silliness
In which similes scintillate
Signifying sensitivities
Of separate sensibilities
Subtly smiting the senseless.
Sauce for the stunningly stupid,
Champagne for the saboteurs.

Love is a principle
Not an emotion,
Feelings are too flighty
On which to base your devotion.
Love flutters
She’s a butterfly to catch your attention
With net in hand,
She defies comprehension.
Labels are helpful
But they never stick
Try reading her palm,
But it’s only a trick.
So I live in limbo
Confused and never knowing
I see her there,
Is she coming or going?
If I stop thinking
It all feels right
I’ll let myself go
And melt in her light.

it never occurred to him,
not even late in the light of day,
he had paid scant attention
to birds

he heard the mourning doves
and saw a black ****** of crows scavenge
for crumbs at his feet at the outdoor cafe;
a crimson cardinal caught his eye, once

but most days he looked little
to the skies, and couldn't tell a wondrous warbler
from a fine finch--vultures and eagles were the same:
carrion eaters, high flyers

this, his avian compendium complete,
save hummingbirds he recalled outside his kitchen window
as a child, when his mother would bake bread
and fill the feeder with sugar water

the buzzing birds had caught his eye, until
his mother passed; then he failed to feed the tiny flock;
where they went he did not know, for he had little
wonder where winged creatures go

From your end of
Telescope

Thirty years scans
Infinity

From my end merest
Blink of eye.

When slightest wink
Of billion mile
Star

Outlasts every planet
In the sky