Early cardinal singing, singing
Little brown bat still winging, winging
Neighbor dog is barking, barking
Sky shows orange and pink through trees
Maple rustles in a gentle breeze
Neighbor dog still barking, barking
Cats meowing for their breakfast
Scent of coffee thrills my senses
Morning ritual now commences
Flub preserved in print,
LexPoMo bids, Come and die,
ye perfectionist!
a knock at the door from
a Jehovah’s Witness,
wondering if I’ve thought about my fate
or my nosy neighbor,
curious if I plan to mow the lawn this year
both, I say, are tomorrow’s problem
I draw the blinds shut
please let me sleep
the fruits of one’s labour
often taste sweeter when shared
with a friend or three
A waking labyrinth,
not like those of my dreams
where I wander through countless rooms
in the old seminary
or endless ruins
in my old neighborhood,
but awake
I seek the archive library
(biblioteca in alto, the key is tagged),
I climb in alto from the third floor elevator
to an ancient room of tomes
which is not my biblioteca
but the precious repository of an Irish friar of ages past.
And so I wander past empty guest rooms
and dusty offices and nooks crammed with books.
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! screech the gulls circling
above the outdoor loggia at my folly.
Finally, with head hung,
I admit defeat to the librarian and
armed with new instructions,
of higher knowledge,
climb again to a secret door
truly in alto
where my quarry sleeps—
more boxes
of a dead man’s mail
to burrow through,
seeking his quiet presence,
sensing his knowing smile.
by the turn of the clock it is time
though the skies and my eyes
would have it otherwise
” Let me give the world a gift. More incorruptible than love.”
Working in secret at Los Alamos
I, too, was a plutonium
scientist. Brilliant
& cocky, the men’s schemes
were considered first
& desire to end the war
was overwhelming. Like a campfire
in the wilderness my conscience
flickered. With others I
recommended a live spectacle
of the bomb, leaders
of nations would watch
& surely lay down
weapons after witnessing
such power, destruction,
military dominance. No one
seriously considered it.
Lily said, We all carry
some guilt but big boys
like big toys.
i pull from myself all of the goodness and flower it onto you
the sin i choose knowing i will not win
and i no longer call it a vice a thing unto which i succumb to
but a beautiful saccharine wish
that i bestow on your tongue
while our friends laugh and we giggle
because without ever knowing
we are the only thing that is truly infinite
