Seeing is Believing

It’s true, Narcissus— 
Even the reeds up- 
Right in the water look 
To be bending over 
For a closer look; 
But look again— 
Is it going 
To be the same 
Stream tomorrow? 

Driven Senseless by Pro Aris Et Focis

This solid citizen heeded the hallowed 
Call of the strait and narrow once 
Too often and ended up crazed 

And racing like a rat down a maze 
Of cheesy halls straight up against 
One hollow chintzy wall after another. 

In Lieu of a New Year's Poem

Oh, dear— 

Hard to find 
Something new 

To write about 
Each coming year 

When it grows old and dear 
And goes before you 

Come to know it, dear. 

Bottom Line

I will meet you halfway 
If that is what you want, 

But please don’t ask me 
To decide for you. 

The Buffalos and Billy the Kid: Raymond, Washington, circa 1951

Sharp shooting pin- 
Ball wizards shoot 

Wads of nickels 
Into bellies 

Of blinking beasts, 
Then mosey on up- 

Stairs to vanishing 
Breed of past 

Prime whores still 
Alive but barely 

Kicking on dying First Street— 
Saloon’s mascot urchin 

Gets down on all fours 
Under Ballys— 

Has more than a hunch 
A few stray buffalo heads
 
Have yet to bite the dust.