Two Poems

The wine drinkers
offer merriment
unto themselves only
never to the lonely old man
who picks through balloons
looking for the one to find
to turn and blow on
into an animal
which he ties and gives to you
like you mattered
like you mattered as much as
the animal
for which yours was formed.


there are small catchings
in little woods
in large woods
there are big catchings
not bugs.
In large woods.

In good warmings
there are tidings
like in the past
rimmed mornings of green

asking for something
to honor you
your feelings
that thought of you
being you.
Neo- sardonically,
credited not.
Till you pump
in the pea words
like pumpernickel
and perriwinkel and…
It falls through,
nothing is nothing
no more credit
for things that go
in the night.

Who cares they say
who cares that leaves
go hard and crack
yak, yakkety, yak
pseudo depressing
languid liverizing
one, two, three partner tango
lost causes once more
taken up like a beer
and wings at
lasalles, chico, ca

two never called
what one could
in an ethereal mood
jeweled, of course
wanting love
and peering
getting it.

Published in: on September 1, 2009 at 5:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

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