Shoelaces
i got all i need
underwear
pants
belt
shirt
hat
socks
shoes
shoelaces
not the same without the shoelaces
“This meat is tough,” he complained
gnashing through the medium rare loin
still dripping with chewy sinew
blank of fatty marbling
that is necessary for flavor
“and it tastes gamey.”
She snorted, ignoring him
grateful for a meal
regardless of how paltry.
While he was busy fighting the war
and reclaiming the land
she had to hunt
rather than gather.
Prey had become scarce.
All that was left
were mushrooms and rodents
or the occasional
emaciated human
that somehow survived
the beast’s return
from the underearth.
Their hunger depleted
their bones until
not even good
for broth
but she may be able
to repurpose
the ribs
into combs
for her hair.
i hate having to live for someone or something
because it sounds nice at first but then its just pressure
and you find yourself on airplanes
enduring ear pain
that chewing gum couldn’t relieve
and then you knew
that betting on your future
was about as much as you were gonna get
and you had better love like youd never loved before
because you were in for the ride
and you could stick your hand out the window without it blowing off
and that feeling lasted 50 years
and a few months
and even fewer days
Regular
The older you get
the more concrete this abstract
concept becomes,
like bird poop on the windshield
it can’t be ignored
My grandkids wonder
why I spend so much time
in the Oval Office
and, like a lazy president,
hardly ever get anything done
All it takes
is one day away from home
or family members come to visit
or a race to fill an unexpected order.
Then it can be awful hard
to brake out of the starting gate.
For such ocassions
the grocery store has an aisle
stacked with miralax,
the miracle elixir
that can blow the floodwall
of Lake Pontchartrain
When you’re young
this is rarely discussed
but for us old-timers
it’s a regular topic
of conversation
“They want rain without thunder” – Frederick Douglass, 1857
for as surely as one,
so, too, the other;
the rumble follows
the rains; the rains,
follow the rumbles
history tumbles
into this present hour,
how we act today
transforms into
what becomes
tomorrow’s stories
the rain follows
the rumble; the rumble,
following rains
for as surely as one,
so, too, the other
Every other week she dropped $60
in his commissary account — it’s called
putting money on the books — so he could stock
up on incidentals. When you are behind
bars what is a prized
possession? Surely toothpaste, socks
& deodorant are more important
than Twinkies or rippled
chips. She learned otherwise. A nestegg
of brownies, a few snack
cakes, made him prince
of his pod if only
for a few minutes. He could trade
something sweet or crunchy for a more
prized item like flip
flops or Ramen with which
he could make Chi, a jail
soup of warm
water, jerky, noodles
& Cheetos. Money
on the books gave him authority,
power, rank. He always had more writing
paper than he needed, salt,
pepper & one extra undershirt.
We seem transfixed these days
by laser pulses bouncing by the billions
off buried Mayan cities and Egyptian
sarcophagi, images revealing footprints
of ancient glaciers and lava flows.
Yet an engineering report of visible
cracks and leaks in this doomed seaside condo
did not penetrate our 21st century hubris.
Said the mayor regarding the collapse:
This is a First World country. That doesn’t happen here.
Now, humbled humans advance
inch by inch through the smoke and debris,
stopping every few minutes
to listen — for cries in the rubble,
for a single pulse, a beating heart.
