Posts for June 28, 2020 (page 7)

Just when we thought normal life could resume,
the Virus has slapped the back of our collective head
and said,
Not so fast.
States that reopened early,
with fanfare and a smirk of arrogance,
are now teeming with new cases.
Hospital are choked with the illness,
no beds left,
triage a spreading dread.
Rewind the tape of New York City in March and April.

Newscasters call it out of control,
their expressions sobered by shock.
The side-lined Dr. Fouci bites his tongue,
but we spy it anyway:
I told you so in a cartoon balloon hovering
above his head; Science having been outshouted
by the fervent wish to believe
the Myth.

Let’s clink wine glasses and toast
to petulance,
to ignoring common sense,
to signs that boast, Selfish and proud of it!

While the rest of the world shrinks back in horror
at our numbers (and bodies) piling up,
the Virus, sporting a MAGA hat,
is laughing its ass off.

I discovered them when they were hours old

Exhausted from leaving their tiny blue shell

With their bulbous unopened eyes and naked bodies

They were a far cry from pretty

But beautiful all the same

They contain a promise of sorts

A contract that assures-life will go on

Each day I come

Take a quick peek

Coo gentle words

Snap a photo

I have gathered quite the following

I know how this will play out

Fluffy down covers them

Then feathers made to fly

The nest becomes a cramped space-too small for three

They will sense my approach

Open their mouths wide for nourishment

And perhaps feel the sting of disappointment when I do not deliver

But one day they will eye me warily

And keep their heads low

And maybe start to recognize me…

Our daily appointments continue

With short chats and reminders to stay safe

Until the day I find the nest empty

I will mourn their departure 

And wonder if they ever think of the large flightless bird who visited them in the nest.

This tide abounding sharp rocks 
was seen thinning into a puce and tawny froth,
whilst rinds must find fresh ways to be despoiled
by these soils.

The moon, sloughed-from-a-lime-light’s still staked slithering away,
as those casuist stars must strike this sky to boil,
 or mustn’t they—

Blunt taupe stalagmites pile through but a crisp winter’s day,
as the occidental songbirds chimed the canebrakes to refrain!

And nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing,
nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, 
nothing about a bald dog is tame— oh no!

These are the things that children say— oh no?
Then what about this nagging, maudlin shame— O
Woe                            is                                        me
who’s left here now to loom gravy— of this,
the entrails of a jörmungandr serpent?

i think

if your hand

lingered on my thigh

for one more second,

your fingerprints

would be singed

into my skin.

Apple equals gnat .
Decomposing equals pain and perish.

If you are decomposing with no pain nor perish then you have something
I cannot explain.
Heartbreak is decomposing and that is more than 
pain and perish it is a horrible leveled up pain.

And I hope that no one deomposes from Heartbreak so solemnly that they have that all throughout their lifetime 
and to the people who did decompose from Heartbreak
I am so so so so so so so so so so so sorry!

I’m glad math was never their strong suit

Never taking accurate inventory

And the way they’d pirouette late at night

Kept them distracted

Never having to focus on the silence

Sorrow accompanies with thoughts

Of too much salt in the ocean

The things we can’t change in life

And you never counted the splinters

In the floorboards

You were always too preoccupied

Finding new ways to dance

And too be sure

When you were in the middle of a routine

I would steal some worry

Quickly hide some pain

And you never seemed to notice

When you counted

Where there should have been surplus

The counters were bare

I.
hey, joe.
yeah?
what’s up?
nothin’. what’s up with you?
nothin’.
thirsty?
nope.
wanna beer?
hell yes.

II.
whatever happened with that chick?
what chick?
the one with the eyebrows.
every chick has eyebrows, prick.
not like those.
oh–judy.
yeah, judy. so, whatever happened with judy?
hell if i know.
care if i call her?
call her what?
call her on the phone, dumbass.
judy?
yeah, judy.
whatever, man.
cool.

III.
look–there’s billy.
hey, billy.
yo, man, what’s up?
hey, billy.
how’s it goin’, joe?
not bad, man, not bad.
wanna beer?
hell yeah.
what you been up to, man?
me?
yeah, you, fuckface.
i just got laid.
oh, really?
yeah, really.
who was it?
you don’t know her.
come on, man, we know all the girls ’round here.
that’s right, man–we do.
well, you don’t know this chick.
try us.
yeah, what was her name?
i’m not sure, really.
she had these wild eyebrows.
was her name judy, by chance?
maybe. not sure.
damn, man.
what?
what’s wrong?

IV.
hey, jake–
three more beers.

Rain poured from the dark sky for the first 
time in weeks,
and behind claps of thunder
I heard the earth sigh with satisfaction.

I left a glass on the porch to collect my share
so I could drink the changing atmosphere
and sate myself,
soaking wet,
with lightning left to spare. 

Delighted to get in the shower
each day, one moment in time

of soapy scrubbed perfection.
I get out dripping,

stepping fresh onto the blue
fluffy bath mat now imprinted

with my wet footprint, and towel
dry, ready for clean clothes.

My purification exercise,
redemption for a new day.

This must be something like
forgiveness, a spotless beginning,

a relinquishing of the past.

alone in April
I see purple blossoms
I hear petals fall

tattered sepia
old photo of grandfather
kindling crackles in fireplace

remember mother
wild roses in thunderstorm
her temper still alive

why do I love frogs?
why do you take coffee black?
facts but no answers

standing ovation
you took center stage in spring
never afraid to show off

tied with golden rope
I recall your last ballet
velvet theater curtains

when a dad is cruel
he forgets your winter coat
river ice shatters