Solo in New York City
       Doing his best
      David Markson

Another frightening dream
Prayers for my dad
4:49 a.m.
Sweet Sir Galahad

I play for my team
I wake, I take, I write
Back to troubled sleep
Looking for the light

                  alright.

My son at play today
             Gracias
              Xie Xie

I don't like Fr. James Martin, SJ
No need for celebrity priests
Time tick tocks
The sun rises in the East

Might visit the taco truck
The concert in the night
Seattle twilight blue
Gatsby's green light

                     Alright!

Watch my son at play
Dodge ball, climbing rocks
I walk around a bit
Bought him shining socks

He is 12 years old
A sweetheart of a boy
He and his brothers
They are my pride and joy

                     Play on!

Seattle ferry boats
           Kells
      Witherells

I dreamed that I was Joan of Arc
My sword, my lance, my steed
My enemy arrayed against
His corruption stank like greed

I sallied forth alone
I suffered many a blow
I shouted, Long live France!
I scrambled in Seattle snow

                   Absurd! I know.