Believe me when I say
I am an above average equivocator;
A hyperbolic exaggerator;
But I love to listen to the experts,
Their promises of love, wealth, justice.
Now, I'm also a reflective skeptic,
Remembering in tranquility and such.
And the wellies fit well.

We're mostly gregarious and polite,
Like most of you.
We too have our diplomatic trips 'n bumps;
We never cozied to Dicky;
But welcomed ex-pat refugees
For safe and sound reasons.
After the jimmy-rigging, how many re-pated?

And we gagged on the impeachables, all fuzzy and bitter.
He called the father that ******* in Ottawa;
And Pierre wore that moniker like The Order of Canada.
When you're not liked by one, you're a dove.

You should visit CANDU.wow
It has it all.

How is Supreme Leader managing?
Are his...
Are my people... sitting at attention.

We could real news a bomb a la Kim Jong,
Or flip a stone down at Port Huron.
We won't.
But we could if we weren't
The Great White North, so accommodating, so polite,
So Coo loo coo coo coo coo coo cooo! nice...
(for now)

Jack entered centre stage
With a flourish,
And a wooden spoon,
To a stainless steel home,
Gilded in precious metals.
His lineage was confirmed.
He would become
A stationary salesman,
Bent under the weight
Of headboards and showrooms.
Nesting tables would be
His succor.
But, there was a sideline
Of coffins in the adjoining parlor,
And Jack was schooled
In the features
For prospective clients..
Too young for overseas duty,
Jack was an apprentice wanderer for
Forty wilderness years,
Selling, dealing.
He raged,
But never struck out
In anger.
Jack is embedded
In the peripheral.
We don't know Jack.

I get weak
Thinking
About weeks.
For example:
1300 weeks = 1 generation;
2080 weeks = a work life;
4420 weeks = a lifetime.
Don't squander 1 week
Worrying about
Next week,
It makes one weak.

Well Dear:

I knew I would be right.
We believed it to be true.
But

(and bear with me),

It's the third period;
The fourth quarter;
Fifth set;
Tenth round;
Eighteenth hole;
Last lap.

In thirteen hundred weeks
I'll give you confirmation
And you'll have an epiphany.
You'll get my situation.

(sorry about this next part)

I was in the game 'til
The fat lady sang,
“Hallelujah.”

I told you I'd love you til I died,
But you,
Ah, you,
You tossed in the towel.
And I don't even get to say...

This day needs tomorrow
As much as
Tomorrow needs today.
Throw a stone,
Watch ripples lick the shore,
Then turn around
And ripple more;
Like magician's rings,
Smoke rings,
Wedding rings,
Entangling,
Enriching,
Intertwining,
Becoming Olympian.
At the epicentre
It's calm.

Mrs. Wolfe sat, confused and angry
That Charlie is being sent home.
Suspended for three days.
They refused the in-school community work
For reparation. She preferred the healing circle.
In frustration, she alluded to me being racist.
But I'm Native.
She was exposed. Bewildered and befuddled.
I was born naked, lived clothed, and will die broken.
I am a member of the Tribe.
Contribute to the Band.
I keep the beat, smudge, dance, good at archery,
Can't spear fish, but buy cheap smokes.
My group calls me Fran Dog,
But Proinsias is my native name.
Then came the critical error:
You don't look Native.
Ah, but I am. And you sound racist.
I am native Irish. From Cavan.
I asked for them to leave the door open.

Life's not laundry.
Don't separate
The colours
From the whites.

We're still stars
Running track:
Leaning forward
Glancing back.
The timer's thumb
Is poised to press:
I'll run with you
'Til my last breath.
Across our path
Like a finish line,
Wait all the loves
We left behind.

There was a young lad
Lived next door
In his parents' basement.
We saw the flicker
Of his screen
Through his curtain window.
He had two jobs,
A license too,
But drove their car
As they had two.
He wasn't one to get out much,
He hadn't many visitors,
He seemed out of touch.
In school he wasn't a head banger,
He presented his doppelganger.
Secretly he worked his game,
Perfected it to bring him fame.
Now everyone says his name.

Beneath the calm
Of moonlit leaves,
Lying lovers
Shoot the breeze.

When in the moment
Of the mode,
Between the rhythm
Of stride and strode,
Shoot off your mouth
And not your load.

Corner thugs
Will deal you drugs
To smoke or snort
Or mainline shoot.
It's a slippery *****
Of lost freewill,
The up is high,
The trip's downhill.
You're in the cross hairs;
Drugs shoot to ****.

The shooter feigns
Heeding advice,
So craps himself
On loaded dice.

The lawyers grin
Without remorse;
They shoot your savings
Throughout divorce.

The pool hall hustler
Cues his cool,
Looking for
A snookered fool.

Naively, when the children play,
Yell, “Ah shoot!” instead of say,
“Ah ****.”
We say that's okay.
Like saying, “****!”
When they can.
It's in the Bible, see?

Sports Illustrated
Puts out a shoot
Of photoshops
In skimpy suits.

When we say
We shoot meat,
Do we stalk roasts
On city streets;
From our hide
On city blocks,
Do we crossbow
Down our chops;
Do we rope *******,
Then use buckshot?
It's euphemistic,
A rich spadeful:
"We shoot 'em all,"
And that's no bull.

There's no need
For anxiety.
Congrats.
You are
The Daily.

I've never cried at funerals
Beside the bowed heads
Looking past the markers
In this gated community.

I've never cried at weddings,
Those blissful, blessed tears of joy.
Seeing the children settled and content
For the years they've yet to live.

I've never cried at birthings,
Though tears are warranted
For years of trouble and ecstasy
They will surely cry.

I've never cried before the courts
Pleading for leniency,
Or alone in a cell.

I've never cried for lost innocence,
Those tears that only come with experience.
The loss of a love.

I've cried for myself,
And I carry a hankie
To marvel at the wet spots.

We were lambs
When first we met,
Rubbing noses,
Getting wet.
We gambolled
In the meadow,
Lost our balance
On new legs,
Found our footing,
Earned our *****.
Our future loomed
Before us.
We grazed on
The greenest farms,
Wove our way
Like knitting yarn.
But you,
Dear ewe,
You grew your horns.

I'm nostalgic for those old wars;
The coloured Roses kind,
With heroes and villains named Henry or Joe.
Wars that inspired poems about fields and bunkers.
And songs. So many catchy lilts with
Tipperary, white cliffs and battleships.
And slogans that made children want to fight
Against Loose Lips and encrypted blips on collateral damages.
I could be persuaaded to enlist,
To serve along side guys like the Duke,
And ****... and **** Tojos and Huns,
While singing and dancing.
And the community. How all chipped in with the Effort.
Congealing around ***** of yarn or tinfoil...  and victory gardens!
We'd be three deep on the boulevard, handing flowers to marching children on Main St.,
And the pulpits and towers exalt our efforts:
God is with us.
Shangdi yu women tong zai.
Dieu est avec nous.
Gott ist mit uns.
Bag s nami.
Dio e con noi.

Nobody has penned a memorable song
About Nagasaki;
We've seen some brain numbing,
Award winning pics
About Hiroshima.

We won't meet again.
I don't know when,
But how is definite.
A few big boys,
And...
Phsssszzzzzt!
How does that song go?

When I met you,
I knew,
You belonged with me.
Throughout these years,
Alone or apart,
No other woman
Lived in my heart.

When you met me,
I knew,
I belonged with you.
Apart or alone,
No other woman
Shared my home.

Whatever happened,
Whatever didn't;
We understood,
Together,
We're in it.

All I've learned
From Rock 'n Roll
Has helped divine
What I call soul.

I'll tell you what I got from you;
They're not your gifts
That give me lift,
Like tea, flowers and concert tickets;
Nice, but for the moment.
Petals pale and music stops,
The things I got
Simply do not.
You smiled for me
A million times;
Sat by me
When I reclined;
Raised me up
Though I'd decline;
You gave me what
I call Divine:
Your time.

If we're together
When we're older,
If one's not left for another,
If one's not dead,
Or out of sorts
Or imprisoned on an institutional bed;
Let me tell what lies ahead.

We'll go to sleep wearing socks,
And rise by our internal clocks;
While on walks we'll hold hands,
And listen while the other talks.
We'll sit content by the St. Clair River
In Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter.

We'll have our tea and buttered toast,
On weekends enjoy your Sunday Roast.
Around the table our children sit,
With grandkids we're blessed to be with.
Then, in the evening, when all are gone,
And we're in our home of homes,
I'll confess my love again;
You're all I've wanted all along.

For much of my life
I’ve been afraid;
It started with my shadows,
It’ll end with the grave.

I was afraid of falling
Off my bike,
Yet I kept on falling
Till I got it right.

I was afraid of what?
I didn’t know;
But knew that school
Was the place to go.

I was afraid of silence,
When the talking stopped;
I was afraid of the water
Till I belly-flopped;

I was afraid of strays,
Cats and dogs,
Till I met yours
And saw their love.

I was afraid of bullies,
Big and bad;
Till I stared them down,
They were small and sad.

I was afraid of my Dad,
Soon the boy grew up;
I was afraid of failure,
So I never stopped.

I was afraid of being caught,
So I learned to tell the truth;
I’m afraid of Climate Change,
I’m afraid we’ll loose our Earth.

I’m afraid for my children,
Now they’re afraid for theirs;
My thinning skin is looser now,
I’m loosing my grey hairs.

And I’m not liking Death, just now,
People disappear from view;
And yet I heard or read somewhere,
It’s the easiest thing we’ll do.

Strange question indeed,
So I asked one and all;
Explain to me:
“What's a plumber's ball?”

Family and friends
Heeded my call,
But none could confine,
Refine or define it,
Yet Paul was sure
He could design it.

Still, none could satisfy
My caterwaul:
“What the hell is a plumber's ball?”

Does it sweat the pipe
Or wiggle the snake:
Can it clamp the ******
For Heaven's sake?
Could it snap on the ****-hole cover?
All these queries
Made me wonder.

Has it something to do
With hardness leakage,
Or ******* the ball-****
To stop a seepage?
Has it anything to do
With a saddle valve dripping,
Electric eels,
Or two pipes mating?
And, I heard of male and female fittings,
And should I worry
If I'm standing or sitting?

If you're discharging the head
Or elongating the pipe,
Does the plumber's ball
Help it snug tight?
Is it in my tank,
Or in my bowl,
Beneath the floor
Near the drainage hole?
Is the plumber's ball
In the back of the truck
(Jeff laughed and said
One could rub it for luck).

I asked Michel
If he could tell,
He sensed it was something
He could smell.
I sought out Ray,
Perhaps he'd know,
But he was on call
To restrain a back-flow.
I couldn't ask Gary
For his wisdom and sense,
He was wigglin' the snake
To unclog a wet vent.
Henry, Rick, Scotty and Brian,
Gave shameless answers
I couldn't rely on.

It's not a crapper, tail piece
Or Johnnie-bolt,
Or catch basin, reamer,
O-ring or pipe dope.
So I searched the Net
With a fool's wonder,
And read of ball-checks,
Gas ***** and plungers.
I know it's too late
To ask Rolly or Ross,
For both of them knew,
And that's our loss.
And Ernie's gone golfing
So I can't ask the Boss.

With final resolve
I fell to my knees,
To pray St. Ferrer
With grace intercede.
His silence left me
In a state of depression;
Had Ferrer washed his hands
Of the plumbing profession?

So nothing could settle
My wherewithal,
I still didn't know,
What's a plumber's ball?

Suddenly, it hit me,
He's never wrong,
The Dalai Lama of dip-tubes,
I'll ask John.
Where others did falter,
John's a rock:
He knows the difference
Between a gas and ball ****.

With a knowing smile
He embraced our Hall:
Here, good friend, is your Plumbers' Ball.

There were sharp, dark nights
When I was sent to the store;
The alleys and empty lots
Were void of comfort light.

There were night sweats
When figures approached;
I would pause on the sidewalk
To hear the retreating steps.

I'd turn to watch a dark outline
Cross under a canopy of branches;
His procession out of the light
And into the long sharp night.

Abandoned houses had draped windows
In the dark of morning deliveries;
Black, steel steps lead to balconies,
Beneath them darker yet.

My window displayed the silhouettes
Of cold thin twig fingers;
And the darkened stairs had a balanced creak,
Or a shoulder bumped into the landing.

I pulled the blanket over my head,
Darker still, I let the night roll on.
That was night.
Tomorrow has dawn.
What's night is night.
What's dark lives on.

I saw him wince,
I saw no smile,
I saw the hurt
In his eyes.
I heard the lines
Of jokes misspoken
In the guise of humor;
And thriving like malignant tumors.
Finger pointing at shortcomings,
Of race, religion, creed,
Or a Newfie, Pole, a Jew;
A priest, rabbi or preacher,
A doctor, lawyer, teacher;
Gay or straight, make no mistake,
They're fodder when one utters
A slight not misconstrued.
We should be adamant,
We should make a fuss.
If we fail;
If we're unjust;
The joke reflects on us.
.

Were you born into wealth
As a lonely heir;
Are you rutted in poverty
And don't want to be there?

Did you emigrate,
And take your world with you;
Are you an immigrant,
And find one that fits you?

Were you born a she
That should be a he;
Do you feel the red shame?
Are you gifted,
Do you think you're insane?

Was your upbringing
In a scholar's home;
Did dear old Dad leave
You alone to go roam?
Should you blame Mommy's drinking
For your lack of get-go?

Did a brother abuse you
When you were young;
Did no one amuse you
At night with a song,
Or read bed-time stories,
Or say Good-night
With a hug?

Whether well-fed
Or well-read,
You've a future
Not used,
A conscious decision
To do what you choose.

Whatever the condition
Of your initial on-set,
Whatever's your story,
*It's not over yet.

They've gathered at his daughter's house,
I passed cars pulling to the curb;
The patriarch has been replaced,
His chair now sits usurped.

Will someone raise a glass to toast him,
Recount some craic to roast him?
Praise his assets,
Shush his regrets,
Strum his unplayed guitar.

They'll share feasts on his bench,
Conceive on handmade beds,
Take down a book from his many shelves,
And talk as though he's there,
Sleeping, unaware.

     What was it that he said?
     He talked of love a lot.
     Did he get it right?
     He shared what he got.
     Did well for a sot.
     He could turn a *****,
     Write a verse,
     Right a wrong,
     Could dialogue with who knows what,
     And if he couldn't fix it,
     We knew we were *******.

They just might go to sleep tonight,
And dream as though he's there,
Still sitting in his chair.

They appear,
They seem,
They presuppose
With their ink to emphasize
My dreams
With the task of following lines,
Connecting routes,
Filling in blanks.
I add sighs to words,
Words to screams
That come from someplace deep and quiet.
They seem,
They appear to assume
You will understand me.

When writers stop telling us
What we don't know;
When the musicians pack up
And leave the Big Show;
When the actors stop showing us
How to feel;
And all the mixed Players
Leave all playing Fields;
When the clerics and laity
Stop living in Awe;
And the Body Politic
Stops abusing our Laws;
When teachers stop returning
To teach in Homerooms;
And we finally accept
There are no empty tombs;
When the philosophers stop telling us
How we should think;
And our Leaders abdicate
Because of the stink;
When all the Professionals
Stop professing their Trade;
And we ruminate peacefully
Over an Open Grave;
We will ask,
Was anyone saved.

When a woman approaches
I seldom notice
Her shoes;
But when I do,
I realize
Why I notice
When a woman approaches.

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

Should poets be like good Romans,
And fall on their pens
When they loose the fight;
Or should we take flight,
To write another day?

I'm not searching
For a rental,
Something less
Than tempermental.
She doesn't need
To be a model,
Yet should react
To the throttle
When I press
The pedal.

Words won't die,
But worders do;
The turned phrase stays
Young as you.

Where do these pangs go?
Dying elephants don't know.
Old Hollywood shows,
Brigadoon and El Dorado.
At the bottom of a *** of gold,
Beneath double rainbows.

I read Chaucer
When he was young,
And Emily too,
And Rev. John Donne.
Batter my heart...
Yet feeds
Mine
As I read it once again.

When Jesus ate asparagus
Did his *** smell like mine;
When he ate a plate of cabbage,
As was often in his habit,
You didn't sense Divinity
In sublime proximity.
When he talked of sowing seeds,
Did the Magdalene accede ?
I know this sounds quite absurd
Talking about the living Word,
But when he ate a plate of beets
His ***** incarnadined.
(Perhaps that's how he made the wine).
And when he had a private dump
He wiped with The Roman Times.

Did Jesus use a hankie
When he blew his nose,
Or did he place ******* there,
They say God only knows.
Or if he thought he wasn't seen,
He might well use his gaberdine.

When he bathed in Jordan,
Did he clip his toes?
I haven't read this anywhere,
The Bible won't disclose.

Yes, he really was a man,
Doing the same, as I Am.
If he were here,
We could be friends,
We'd hear a joke,
Crack a cask,
Share a smoke.
I don't believe
We'd say Amen.

They carried us
Through gestation,
Or took us in
Without hesitation.
Our coming
Was a celebration,
Mothers are our affirmation.
They deliver.

When we're quiet
From travails,
She makes time
For school-yard tales.
The warmth of sunshine
Shyly pales
To her prevailing arms.

She feared for us
Til eyes dried out;
Stayed home alone
When we left her house,
Waiting by the door.
A balm and living cure.

When Moms do well
All can tell
The Madonna-like connection.
No need to forgive,
We'll always grieve,
They've loved us
Since conception.

They carried us
Through gestation,
Or adopted
Without hesitation.
Our coming
Was a celebration,
Mothers are our affirmation.
They deliver.

When we were quiet
From travails,
She made time
For school-yard tales.
The warmth of sunshine
Shyly pales
To her prevailing arms.

They nurtured us
Til eyes dried out;
Cried alone
When we left
The house;
They waited by the door,
Like a living cure.

When Moms do well
All can tell
The madonna like connection:
No need to forgive them,
Will always grieve them;
They've loved us
Since conception.

They carried us
Through gestation,
Or adopted
Without hesitation.
Our coming
Was a celebration,
Mothers are our affirmation.
They deliver.

When we're quiet
From travails,
She makes time
For school-yard tales.
The warmth of sunshine
Shyly pales
To her prevailing arms.

She fostered us
Til eyes dried out;
Cried alone
As we left her house;
Waiting by the door,
A balm and living cure.

When Moms do well
All can tell
The Madonna-like connection.
No need to forgive them,
We'll always grieve them;
Mothers love us
From conception.

They carried us
Through gestation,
Or adopted
Without hesitation.
Our coming
Was a celebration,
Mothers are our affirmation.
They deliver.

When we were quiet
From travails,
She made time
For school-yard tales.
The warmth of sunshine
Shyly pales
To her prevailing arms.

They nurtured us
Til eyes dried out;
Cried alone
When we left
The house;
Waiting by the door,
Like a living cure.

When Moms do well
All can tell
The Madonna-like connection:
No need to forgive them,
We'll always grieve them;
They've loved us
Since conception.

I'm disappearing.
Bit by tiny bit.
I'm becoming a mosaic
Of technological parts.
I'm not bionic,
I've a real heart;
But aids help me hear;
Implants help me chew;
Stainless steel lets me kneel,
I wear specs to see you.

Nothing man-made can last;
Not like mountains and forests
That don't need my resources.
You may say these things aren't living, as such...
But you'd be wrong.
You may argue I am not living as such...
You'd be wrong again.
I need batteries and oil,
Scripts or x-rays to prove it,
But the proof is there.
I'm shedding skin, losing hair,
Have diminished hearing and sight;
My legs are sore and tired and my back...
Oh my back...
Yes, I am disappearing
And will be remembered for a generation;
As my grandfather was with me.
When my brain disappears,
So will he.

I need permission
To break through this invisible forcefield,
To give you a hug,
And make it not ******.
Yet...
We both know
It not to be true.

I testify. Testified.
Everyone ,
Including me,
Believes truth will taste better salted.
Salted.
Yet apathy prevails.

I need to be
What I am
When she's here;
Not what
I am
When she's not.

When someone dies,
(Someone you know)
Is that one less annoyance,
A necessary replacement for a foursome,
A body pillow,
A pillow confidant,
A whining Bestie,
A conversational equal.
Is it someone you'd like to meet again, wherever,
Or someone you fear to meet again
(Knowing all is now known).
Was it an old school chum you recognize in a faded picture,
A near/far relative,
A faint acquaintance (that's sad...).
I read the obituaries daily,
Recognize many, but feel little.
But someone's someone passed this way,
And sometimes someone was mine,
Today.

If my hearing's weak,
Or I seldom speak,
Perhaps my mind may wander;
Don't overlook
My eyesight's fine,
I detect
Eyes roll and shift.

I know, I know,
I repeat myself,
Echolalia is my mantra.
At this age one forgets
Who heard his story,
Tsk. Tsk.
Such disrespect.
Ah, well.
What should I expect?
Did I call,
Or send a text,
Use Skype or Face?
I'll learn what's next.
Sometimes I use snail mail.
Sorry, memory fails.

You must admit
Your old man
Tells a story
Like no one can.
Stories drip
From my lips;
But given time
I'll learn to mime


The muscles relax,
One can't hold back;
Please tell me if I smell.
You may be bolder
If I make an error;
**** happens
When you're older.

Again the sky
Takes good-byes,
And I heave one
Once again.

Good-bye.

When you quipped
Ciao so flippantly,
Or rolled au revoir
So knowingly;
When See ya
Really meant
See ya soon,
I heard it all
So promisingly.
When you said
Later, it meant
Sooner than later,
And you drawled it out
So wistfully,
Knowing sooner
Lovingly.

This time
Come back
And say
Good-bye again.

Good-bye,
My girl,
For now.

Inhale nature's incense,
Fill with life
As since first breath,
And exhale.
Nothing disappears.
     Where does love go?

A broken robin's blue
Beneath a fallen leaf;
The curling smoke,
A lap of shoreline suds,
The dust from fallen stones.
     Where does love go?

The pounds we shed,
The worry we dread,
And all about me's thin,
Heaviness dissipates.
     Where does love go?

Beads gather on my brow
Then rivulet down my nose,
Drops like autumn roses.
     Where does love go?

I hurt a friend,
His pain was real,
My remorse reached his ears,
I saw his pain disappear.
     But where does love go?

It's not recyclable, reuseable,
But environmentally friendly:
It's measured like a tailored suit
No one else can wear.
An exclusive gift,
Free as loaves and fishes.
     Where does it go?

It sates, some stays,
Some grows, then fades;
It's quantity unmeasured.
     But where does love,
     That all time love,
     That one time love,
     Where,
     Where did it go?