Who’s the best?
It can only be one.
The best is enemy of the rest.
Of the good.
Of the different.
There’s always one better.
A later one learns from,
and improves on,
an earlier one.
The game evolves
and is refined.
Something new
is added
that overshadows the old.
Beethoven learned from Hayden.
Michael Jordan is 6’6’’ tall.
So is Julius Irving.
But Michael learned from Julius.
Who can judge
which butterfly is the best?

City of Dreams

I knew I had to be somewhere.
But wherever I turned there was
enchantment,
like when I was a child
and everything new was exciting.
Every building invited me
and every turn drew me in.
Every choice was perfect.
I had no inner GPS telling me
where I had to end up,
how to get there,
or how far I was from it.
But I didn’t care
because I was free
for the moment,
and I didn’t want
to wake up.

Was it a dream or a memory?
I’m not sure.
But I saw a place somewhere,
where there were shops and houses without doors.
In the poetry shop
Ezra Pound, Wallace Stevens, Gerard Manly Hopkins and Sylvia Plath were seated around a table
enchanted with the magic of words.
Ogden Nash came in with a dish of P’s and Q’s.
They all broke out with laughter.
I walked in and they offered me a chair.
As an amateur poet I was out of my mind with the occasion.
In the science shop
Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein and the sage who discovered the wheel
were standing around a telescope.
I showed them my cell phone.
They threw up their hands and said: “What Now?”
Michelangelo, Picasso, Raphael, Norman Rockwell and Andy Warhol
were standing by the art shop looking at a cloud.
Andy said: “Not even Michelangelo can paint a cloud.”
Michelangelo laughed and said: “Who do you think I am, God?”
I remembered his sculpture of David and thought to myself
that it is as perfect as a cloud.
There were so many other shops
for everything imaginable.
I noticed the largest building,
the “Sinners Anonymous Club”.
The sign read: “All Sinners are Welcome”.
I walked in and they recognized me.
Adolph, Genghis, Judas and Pontius
and a lot of other famous and ordinary sinners
were having their 12-step fellowship.
In their midst was Jesus who said:
“This is my favorite place.”
“This is where I’m welcome, appreciated and needed.”
I stayed a good while.
The crowd swelled.
Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, atheists,
and more sinners poured in.
Presidents, generals, movie stars, sports greats, religious leaders, composers of great music, great doers of the world.
I couldn’t believe it.
In my selfish heart I wished that I had brought a baseball
for autographs, at least the Babe’s.
I’ll never forget Jesus smiling and laughing.
It seemed like the place was filled with grace.
I had the ironic feeling that it was almost
like being in church.

Light hangs on a cloud
like the shy glance of John Wayne,
and wings that fly.
It came to my mind
in a flash and then was gone,
but the world changed.
Four crows were flying west.
Sunlight reflected off one crow’s wing.
The flash came and went.
I didn’t see the earth turning.
But it did.

John Hayes

The sheriff and I were waiting
in a crowded room.

We spoke of time, not days and hours,
but time itself, the uncertain duration,
like water in a small bucket we sense wasting,
as if eternity could be frittered away.

We spoke of space,
the essential nothingness that stretches
throughout the universe,
never seen or really understood,
but more indispensable than air.

We spoke of things that are real,
like the county issue desk he was using.
He rapped it with his knuckles and said:
“This is real”, then he reconsidered and said, “...for now.”
It stood there passing away before us,
like refuse in space-time, not really real,
not mattering at all.

We spoke of God, but stumbled for words,
seeking the greatest simplicity,
saving content from form.
No old  or new idea was good enough,
and we were now more lost than before.
Yet we wanted nothing more than to speak the truth
all day, and always…,

It was a heart attack.
Sudden, and a real surprise.
The next thing I knew I saw him.
He wore a dark suit and red tie.
He had the image of a lawyer
and I didn’t expect that.
But, as a lawyer myself
it felt familiar.
I could see in his eyes
that he was ready to make a deal.
I asked for one wish, and he agreed.
There was something I always wanted to do
but it had been impossible.
I wanted to cross-examine ******.
The Devil said: ”Now’s your chance.”
We were suddenly in a courtroom.
Adolph was brought in
and placed under oath.
“Isn’t it true”, I asked,
“that you murdered millions of Jews?”
“Not alone”, he answered,
“but yes, I ordered it.”
I was overwhelmed by this admission
of unimaginable inhumanity.
I lost my courtroom composure
and yelled: “How could you do that?”
He answered; “You’re not so innocent
as to judge me.”
Even less composed now, and taken aback, I asked:
“What do you mean?”
He said: “You’re doing it, too!”
“Millions of your black brothers and sisters
live in concentration camps you call ‘ghettos’.”
“And you go along with it.”
“They have bad housing and schools,
and lack essential things
because of where they have to live.”
“And you don’t give it a thought.
You even blame them for it.”
“Don’t you get it?”
“Don’t you see how it kills their chances for life?”
I objected and blurted out:
“Who’s on trial here?”
He answered: “You wanted the truth
and I’m giving it to you.”
I turned to the Devil and said:
“Are you going to let him go on like this?”
The Devil said: “I think he’s just getting started.”