Chainlink Fences

—for John Levy 


Who writes in a poem 
About a drawing 
About why he liked them 
As a child so swell 
And subdued 

We can well imagine 
Climbing up them even 
If our feet are too large 
And we too big 
For our britches.

Abandoned Barbecue

Long past its prime, 
This corroded 
Iron barrel cut length- 
Wise in half, whose 
Bottom was once 
Covered under a light 
Shovelful of topsoil, 
And over which 
A bed of hot char- 
Coals crackled, 
Searing dandy cuts 
Of tender, grass-fed beef 
Whenever the occasion 
To surfeit called for it, 
Now sprouts 
A generous helping 
Of organic dandelions— 

But do not fret, friends 
For old times’ sake, 
Let’s pretend we’re eating 
Our blooming hearts out. 

Zen Biker Facing Wind On Narrow Country Road

I don’t know 
What sounds more 
Swishing— 

The sound of bamboo 
Swishing or the sound 
Of a boy on his bicycle 

Swishing through. 

Daily Gazette

               the good news of the day 

Most mornings 
We rise ready

To wonder 

How wondrous 
The twilight will be. 

. 

               flip side of the coin 

Punch-drunk, we just roll 
Over, curl up and wonder 

What to make of the sinister
Squiggles crawling 

Up the wall. 

Ruse: One For The Poem That Got Away

What’s that you say?— 
What’s on the tip of my tongue? 

How’s about a piece of my mind, 
You miserable excuse for a muse.