“Compass?”
“Check.”
“Matches?”
“Check.”
“Maple syrup?”
“Check.”
“Swiss Army Knife?”
“What do you think?”
It was on.
With shouldered packs we set off.
The acorns were scarce at first
but more plentiful later.
Waters roared from recent rains.
Wildflowers were glorious!
I gathered some violets.
Then shelling, leaching, drying and
grinding the bitter nutmeats.
Fire on, cast iron oiled and
the first cakes were poured.
The judges seemed astonished.
We smiled.
First prize in the second only
backwoods pancake contest.
Pete thought it was the syrup
we made in Vermont.
I knew it was the violets.

Did she really mean that?
What was that snarky smirk?
What the **** does that mean?
I can’t believe he just said that!
Does that mean that…

Here’s a chill pill
Don’t think the worse
Get over your brain strain
Move on to restrain
Here’s a new refrain

Surprise: more than you
No one aspires to conspire
Antagonists might be protagonists
Think better of everyone
Beatles: “All you need is…”

There once was a boy from Eureka
Not Kansas nor even Topeka
He took stock of life
Went off with his wife
To kayak in Lake Tanganyika

I wish life had subtitles
Or at least a Babel fish
Deep in my ear
To hear…everyone

Or a translator universal
As Seen in all series Trek:
Denobulan, Klingon, Ferengi:
I’d buy that for a dollar!

Walls fall
Borders borrando
I think I’d like a
Lingua Franca

We are roommates
But no longer lovers
As we once were though
Thoroughly married still

I love her, my not lover
Who does not share my bed
Even as we share our dreams
For the rest of life it seems

We will conquer the world
Traversing indifferent distance
Always returning home
To hearth home and them

The cinders of eros cold
We both grow old
Gnarled vines entwined
The fruit makes good wine

An ambulance mourns and wails
Someone down in this town

Church bells chime at all times
Weddings, masses, memorials

“BRRROUOOGH! GAS! OAXACA!”
On every street on every morning

Smaller, stiller sounds; listen:
Cooing doves in jacarandas

Silent dogs on rounds;
Stealthy, not needing us

Squeals, peals of children
Skating, biking in the park

Schnack-fwack brush
Of shoeshiners

Twhick—shwick—thwick
Of fastidious street sweepers

Traffic, thrumming always
The humming of Oaxaca

Line in the BIG sand
With the TERRORIST Iran
Because Sam I am