Today I found three armadillos
The dogs had killed

They drug them home and humbly left them
In homage to the Lord of their castle

I got my shovel and carried them
Far enough away from the house
That I would not smell the stink.

I used to bury them
But the dogs thought it a game
Dug them up and returned them to me.

So I threw them in the lake for a while.
They sank like little submarines
I quit doing that when I started swimming

I walked by the carcasses yesterday
They were all covered with flies.

Today I sit on the porch
The dogs alert to some intruder.
They are very excited so I’ll check it out.

The intruder is a trio of buzzards.
The dogs are beside themselves.
They chase them off.

As I return to the house
I wonder about the complex webs of ecology.
Are the dogs in concert with the flies?

The world attracts. The world repels.
We search for heavens. We run from hells.
Sights and sounds and tastes and smells.
You bet your life. Watch out for tells.

God knows them all so we must lose
Must die to live so death we choose
Tear down our dikes. Let in the flood
Truly alive now that we're dead.

When times are good and there is rain
She leafs full tilt
Disdaining dread of drought

Betting on the come of future rains
A luscious jungle of gorgeous green
Swirling overhead

But there are no guarantees
If day follows day with only summer heat and sun
All born cannot survive

A choice must be made
Terrible triage
Children sacrificed for parent’s sake

She tourniquets her limbs
Newborn leaves scream, wither
Yellow, dry and drop to the ground
To feed the mother in another year

How can it be
That you and I
So different from each other
Still find ourselves
So constantly
Brought back to one another?

Why do we try
And try again
Despite the odds against us?
Why do we fly
And fly again
Like this moment’s Icarus?

Why do we cry
and feel the pain
that square peg/round hole cause us?
Why we do try
And try again
Like today’s Prometheus?

Because, like Icarus we know
The game is worth the candle
The sun we seek may melt our wax
But we’re not too hot to handle

And like Prometheus we know
The pain is worth the pleasure
Flying higher
Finding fire
There is no greater treasure

So we have gone
Repaired our wings
And flown again much higher
So we have torn
Our hearts open
To discover true love’s fire

And each attempt
To reach ideal
The joy is always greater
I know more you
You know more me
We are each other’s satyr

“Tis destiny…
(The Gods all say)…
you felt when your eyes his met”
For you and me
this work is play
God’s will, maya, kismet.

One morning’s walk there she was
A coral orange flower
Engaged in a staring contest with the sun
******* up the sap
Of the rushing water at her feet
Exulting with the orgiastic rapids
A shameless harlot
Flaunting her perfection

I plucked her

Held her in my hand
Walked quickly back the short way home

All was well
I was in control
Towering over her small frame
I would trim her stem
Install her on a throne of crystal
Satisfy her wants and needs
Show off my new possession

But the ***** betrayed me
She had tricks I never knew
Ways to show me
I was not the master

I looked down to see her
Dead in those few minutes
But with a smile on her face

I got my hair cut Wednesday.
Lynne talked as she plied her trade.
A kitten was born on her doorstep-
Strange how the world is made.

Online Lynne read that mother cats
often give birth at your door.
Coincidences abounded.
Does death abound even more?

If mother cats know about doorsteps,
do they know which people to choose?
Is a cradle worth less than a manger?
To save your life must you lose?

Lynne wasn’t supposed to be there.
Her shop was closed that day
That’s a door she never uses.
What drew her so far astray?

Mother cat had chosen most wisely.
No doorstep was better than Lynne’s.
But can one this young survive?
Are babes blotched with original sins?

Extraordinary measures
for extraordinary things are required.
Lynne fed every fifteen minutes.
Loving never makes one tired.

Lynne spent forty eight hours
wrestling with God for this child.
Vets, internets and eye droppers
saved it from the law of the wild.

Hope is the name she gave her.
Hope is what saw her through.
Stronger hour by hour-
Death had been cheated anew.

Now she is sleeping so soundly
with covers snuggled up to her head.
Lynne looks and loves her fondly,
then sees that she is dead.

So I sit and hear this story.
Lynne brings Hope in her tiny box.
The sight of her rips my heart open
Like a raft ruined on ragged rocks.

She finished with my haircut
ignoring all my tears.
Today I sit and write this
with the help of a few beers.

How can this have happened
Is it part of the Master’s plan?
Malt much more than Milton
justifies God’s ways to man.

my apologies to A.E. Houseman and his poem “Terrence This is Stupid Stuff”

I arise at first light
Sirens of sound and sense
Call me to the dock
Sleepy- eyed
I can’t resist
The love they offer daily

The slothful sun
Clears the trees across the lake
Burning off the mists
Dying cool breezes
Killing soft light
Getting over mourning

Remembering mornings gone before
Waxing and waning
Rising and setting
My hand shakes
From coffee or old age or both

Listening to the song “Suzanne“
By Leonard Cohen
I am reminded of old lovers
Each in some different way
I still love them all

Still thrill at the joys
Still hurt at the sorrows
I listen three or four times
And cry every one
I should be getting over them by now


Every person I touch
If only for one moment
Is my lover
The child I pass in the grocery store
Smiles and waves
As though he knew me intimately
Which he does

His mother smiles too
But differently
A tense, perfunctory smile
Tense like her grip
Tightening on his hand

She’s afraid because -Who knows?
I might be a pervert
Soon she will teach him
To guard his heart more closely
To get over it.