Bringing It All Back Home On The Ferryman's River

Rounding another silted bend, 
Where someone left a lone 
Oar, a marker now half- 
Hidden in the susurrating 
Singing reeds signaling still 

Another traveler’s solitary 
Deposition beached 
Near the not so 
Farfetched beckoning 
Dog-eared shore. 

Real Going Concern's Unfortunate Misstep Into The Abyss

The secret of my success? Too bad 
A run of bad luck means I’m going 
To take that with me but I can 
Leave you this much, Einstein— 
I didn’t get this far in life 
By counting the number 
Of steps I took backwards. 

Literally "Right As Rain"

Timeworn yes but still she 
Reigns over like similes easily, 

Rolling alliteratively right along 
Our parched drooping tongues, 

I tell you she’s a long, cool rain goddess 
Storming towards us in a pelting 

Sheet of sleet with nothing 
But a sleek red headdress on. 

Adamantine Bauble

Indeed, 
The poem may be 

Many things, even 
A thing to gawk at 

At one’s ease and pleasure, 
But it will never be 

Something you can do with 
As you please. 

Artfully Good-For-Nothing Dodger

Way beyond redemption, the worst 
Thing you can do now is try 

Better to trump yourself again 
By claiming you’re an exemption.

National Enquirer

                    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 on Twitter, we just 
Roll over, stay in bed and wonder 

What to make of the next round 
Of squiggles crawling up the wall. 

Happy Days Are Here Again

—for Kristine, who requested a “happy” one. 

If we had dared 
Say we were happy when 
Such days as these 
Came and went and we 
Just kept on hoping 
Everything would go 
On being the same, 
Who would have believed 
Us and how much 
Of what we had said 
Would we have changed?