Rivaling gunfire
ten pairs of rock dove wings boom
and greet my presence

The snowshoe hare hid
In the whiteness but the wolf
Even whiter pounced

Rivaling gunfire
ten pairs of rock dove wings boom
and greet my presence

Twenty-five by eight on the muddy water
She steps from rocking wood
to solid land
Looking forward to dry dirt, not mud and water
on her gingham dress
Five thousand square feet off
W. Evergreen, the Weedstreet District
"Can you believe all these people," he says.
"I thought they say no one has money."
And Rod Stewart replies, "Billy left his home with a dollar in his pocket..."
And then outside
She looks up in the sky and marvels:
"Hey, the Sears Tower is still there."

There was one window
On about the seventh floor
Of the abandoned paperboard factory

Every window had been broken so far
Danny broke three
Clay two
Me one
Eric eight
But for that one window
On the seventh floor
Glaring at us
Daring us

Eric pitched a no-hitter
Against the Sievewright Sifters
Danny caught a foul at a Patrones game
Clay won a huge Bugs Bunny at the fair
(I was cut from the school's team but kept that to myself)

Still that window
Hovered
Unbroken
Spotless perhaps
Giving views
Of a muddy river
And sagging city
(Or would have
If anyone still worked there)

Then one day
We were walking
Just four kids
Walking
Where a crowd of a thousand
Would once mob
Each day at eight
Then at three
Then at eleven
But now never again

And that window was broken
Left with an open jagged entryway
About a foot in diameter
Just a little bit of each corner remaining
The northeast in dangling pieces
And I saw what did it
But didn't say
A dead pigeon lay near the empty Dumpster

I let them marvel
At whatever transient hobo hitchhiker
Might have come by
With a throwing arm
Like Nolan Ryan's

Shift begins: look how
Slow those seconds crawl: Shift ends:
See how they speed up

I was trying to impress Ella at the art reception
Telling her a fishing and then a hunting and then a garage saling story
When I notice her looking over my right shoulder
At

A non-descript male
Who like me
Wore no rings
Had his hair combed to the side

And made a somewhat believable attempt to understand
What was mounted on the east-side wall
I dreamed that night of a mob
Me allied with 10 tall strong men

Or at least taller and stronger than him
Tall and strong enough
To corner him at the cliff
by the site of the forgotten Revolutionary war skirmish

As we stood facing him
Trying to think of what we would do to hurt him
When suddenly the ground we stand on collapses and we go tumbling down
Limbs hitting limbs

Torsos slamming torsos
Until we're in a moaning pile
And what does the nondescript man noticed by Ella do
but throw us a rope or some kind of lifeline and pulls us up

And in gratitude I grab him by the hand
And pull
He tumbles
Laughing

And I walked away
Knowing he was okay down there below

Who would want to read the poem that I wrote?

Might it be that man in the red party hat...

(And don't ask me what a red party hat looks like

It's just something I made up and I'm not even

Sure

If it's a party hat that's red or a hat for a red party.)

So really who would want to read the poem that I wrote?

Maybe that woman I saw running in six-inch-high heels in the morning

And then ambling in tennis shoes in the evening

And actually I never have seen a woman like that

But if she does exist

Maybe she would want to read the poem that I wrote.

Talking to himself
Maybe there was a time when
Somebody listened

The man in the red party hat
Said
I don't know if I'm wearing a
Party hat that's red
Or a hat for a red party

Someone said
Throw him a hyphen

He caught it with his right hand
Tossed it up
Caught it with his left hand

He turned it upside down
He turned it around
He looked at its underside
Then twirled it and tapped it on his palm

Then he threw it back to us
And said
"I'll just see what happens."

Everyone was told to stay indoors

The fish were “humaning”

Baiting hooks with Xanax and ******

And other pharmaceuticals to help us get through the day

Working stiffs wanting a little surcease

Found themselves descending through water

To who knows what fate

As pets maybe?

But do we put trout in aquariums?

I made the decision

To stop hydrophobically cowering in my apartment

And set out

Forswearing all chemical crutches

Sad to see too many of my fellow **** sapiens

Getting wet against their will

On the skywalk

I saw
Two men greet
Each other with smiles
On the crosswalk

I saw
A young man and young woman
Holding hands
On the sidewalk

I saw
An old man
Cradling a baby girl
On the boardwalk

I broke
From my pause
On the skywalk

Read grandmother's books
Found passages underlined
She lived once again

Woman holds sign that

Says "A Little Kindness Please"

I just stare ahead

Opening Grandma's
book I get a paper cut.
Is that her laughing?

Why did Liz jilt the Frobe?

And why was I seated between them?

Was it because we all came from the same island?

What would Liz reveal?

And how would the Frobe disagree?

And if she gets too loud?

And he got too mad?

Like his sixth glass always promised?

Well...

I was wearing the comfortable shoes

Of any good savateuse

Olive-drab dress, black
Gloves: a brief mambo, prelude
To her last heartbreak

In and out of a
Patch of sunlight dragonflies
Flit, backs emblazoned

Big white shoes swing wide
While small dog struggles to keep
Up with mincing steps

We got the library meeting room
between 930 - 10
when it closed.
I usually recite
the worst poetry,
but that night
I was the hero
b/c I noticed
that the librarian
forgot to lock
the front door.
We go back in.
At 10:45 I do my new sonnet.
I was told it wasn't half-bad.

It was the green-light party.

There was a car in front of me,

a car behind me,

a car to the left of me,

and one to the right.

Strangers in metallic isolating bubbles were bonding --

we honked at each other --

rolled down our windows,

shouted at each other --

"There's another!"

Some cars were more expensive than mine,

some cheaper --

And then there was a red light.

And the green-light party ended.