DeNial

The tooth’s root is split
removal is imminent

Doc it doesn’t hurt
or smell anymore

best it’s been in a year
scheduled extraction today

I cannot face another
molar departing me

appointment canceled
afraid of domino effect

one down one next to it
is next until none are left

too old to rationalize expense
and more pain for an implant

reschedule two weeks from now
hope I’ll be able to accept the risks & loss

by then.

Apparently, there comes a point
when the compost is finished.

Greens for nitrogen:
smiling veggie peelings,
grasses shorn of the earth,
coffee grounds that made mornings
a place I wanted to be.

Browns for carbon:
cardboard that boxed lives,
straw that comforted chickens,
shredded paper from all the vultures
who want to buy my house.

Moisture:
too dry slows it down, too wet
it goes anaerobic and smells
like desperation. Don’t cry
over it.

Air:
microorganisms and bacteria
need oxygen, flip your compost over
like grave dirt to aerate and let it breathe.

When the compost becomes balanced,
growth can begin.

*with nod, after a fashion, to Mary Oliver (it is always a good morning to read “Invitation”).

He is entirely and seriously himself
    a black and white cowcat of limited grace
    one weepy eye, a polka dot heel, he is
    A Fluffy and Delightful
        nuisance seeking a missile, a cat that is

such a puppy, at home in fetch and following.

He wanders the house again & again
    seeking
        Knowledge &
        Chaos &
his very best friends

His Favorite redbird toy chirps merrily from his maw all along his loop
he is singing
    “awooo  awooo, 
            won’t someone be alive with me on this fresh morning?”

My little Dracula cape hung so lonely on the back of mamaw’s oak chair

My eyes stung of tears mixed with ghostly white face paint

My pleas were dashed away in the cool autumn breeze

You did not listen to me

You did not see my excitement when I came home with the cape from the local library

“A little ghost you’ll be” you stated to me

A shrug of your shoulder

“Little girls can’t be Dracula”

As if my play and make believe was challenging any of your beliefs

So there I sat on mamaw’s kitchen table

You painting my face and spraying my hair

My aunt holding my tiny hand promising me I’d still have fun

As mamaw came in with the small sheet that would be my costume

She gently shroud me and said

“Tomorrow we will play Dracula just you and me”

Perhaps the world ends here
Joy Harjo was signing copies
I couldn’t resist
picking it up for you.

Joy Harjo signed copies
pickng one for you
Enjoy, Cuz Gary.
She signed boldly- for Linda be strong!

Picking Girl Warrior for you
Cuz, I know you enjoy poetry
Be strong as Girl Warrior
pick yourself up.

Cuz I know you-
picking up your strength
through your poems
perhaps the world ends in poetry.

it costs you nothing to see it
though for some this alone is too high a price
the colors on the roadways after a storm
the last light before the sky goes dark
the small bright bud newly unfurled in the morning glow
what would you barter to have more of this
use your eyes as exchange

oh the value  this world

Inspired by Phil

Shaking fingers, wrestling in his lap, an old man asks
“What will happen to my heart?”
Doctor flips his chart, not giving it a second thought.
“Sent for research, nothing more.”

The old man looks down at his trembling hands,
considers, “What happens to my whole heart?”
Doctor, confused, stares. “I just told you.”
The old man opens his mouth, but no sound.

How do you ask someone to comprehend the soul?
What its lived through, been through, torn apart,
and spit out from? How do you measure it and be able to say
“I’m fine,” and actually mean it?

Doctor looks back at the man. “Any other questions?”
The old man holds back tears, a swirl of anxiousness,
How will I live after this? He thinks. He replies
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Whole Heart (read aloud)

Oregon Coast Range
potential BLM sale area
no stumps,
looked untouched by logging

Stopped for lunch near large old Doug fir
base diameter:
94 inches
thick wrinkled bark with grooves

Old growth critical to ecosystem,
that tree a candidate
to be chopped down
for stockholders’ financial gain

morning gloam
as flowers topple grayscale
and all dark retreats into caves

birds warble in swarm
weary figures engines rumble
and radiant day recommences

our will as sunlight
not unlike prestidigitation,
physical attainment of visualization