after a ten year wait
in the longest winter ever recorded
Christmas finally arrived
amidst changing styles
and varying outlooks
the dusty gifts and slightly worn bows
stood ready for their fate
they would pass through
the Aristotelian concept
of potential versus actuality
from expectation to reality
then the day would travel most like any other

we are not built for modernism
instance of overload pile up
deflecting our attention from life
we are five pound bags, not ten

it takes time to adjust opinion
the result is an overcrowded rootball
unable to absorb water, nutrients
all we now need to know, obstructs

there is no blame and little correction
for tabloid populace stuck along the way
facts being what they are, emotion also,
one worthless stop good as any other

fill the entire page
with snowy enlightenment
fool nobody else


five five five five five
seven seven seven oops
five five five five five


contentment I guess
can only be recognized
from its shadow, cast


direction is offered
by the learned minds afar
it’s a time machine


a houseboat with pool
a brown pigeon on a leash
a dumb dream again


snows a comin’ up
a ledger of snow, in banks
I now coin this phrase


so bright very white
crystals fall from the gray sky
shoveling diamonds


pick an argument
forget yourself for awhile
then just go away


too many people
smoking piles of well meaning
it tempts the silence


sixty divisible
one through six ten twelve fifteen
twenty and thirty


imagination
a substitute for answers
all we do is dream

the air is soft and carries a warmth
the scene is caught in the moment
the acclaim of heaven
the stone carvings
lions of somber mane

myth and the offering of myth

all calamity avoided
by the idea of perfect grace

a land of no degrees
of equal passion
there is no escape from this yielding

you can’t lose
your nice new attitude
will save you

I also like the way
you keep an eye on the numbers
not getting’ very far
without them

takin’ things in stride
as close to being worry free
as a walking skin can be
Bravo !
to all I see and to all that I do
Bravo !

cold
very cold north country night
comin’ up below zero on the scale
there is no pain quite like the pain you get
from cold frigid air the sky
will be starry full of bulls and twins
hunters and seven sisters caught in the middle
an endless panorama that somehow
ends some day

checked out the tabloid headlines
in the local checkout line


if it didn’t work they wouldn’t do it
the suits with their charts
could act nicely but ***** it
for the ****** barometer
that is human desire
reveals plenty of room

at the lowest denominator