Three Things

A Night In Denny's

Meekness in a booth

Does not get waited on.

Forthright loses jobs.

Ten minutes and she's gone.

Exhibitionism

Proves that love is hot

Underneath a lamp

In the parking lot.

Here I sit in Denny's

Writing poesy

With a cup of coffee

And a glass of tea.

My poesy is new.

I am not a clone.

Sitting here I wish

That I were not alone.

2-3-14

Driving Down Mooney

Silly styles and foolish hats -

Buying guns and drowning cats -

Piercing tongues and colored hair -

Tattoos cover everywhere -

Giving Grammys – is a sham -

The music isn't worth a damn -

Facing death with vanity -

Take a dump – it's poetry! -

Hang the gay, the black, the Jew -

There's really nothing else to do -

Steal a craft and go to sea -

Screw the university -

All the bumper stickers say,

“Expect to go to hell or pray” -

Really makes me want to stay

At home – it's out there every day -

2-3-14

2010

I wrote a tome of verses -

Several hundred pages -

Is it mediocre

Or something for the ages?

The file is being typed.

In a week or two

It will be a book,

Colorful and new.

It was in a box

For several years, and then

I took it out and read it -

“George 2010”.

Thomas said that poems

Must praise the deity.

Mine are on the surface

Of earth and George and me.

Proust is very pretty.

History is not.

I believe the past

Is better left forgot.

Poesy and music

Soothe me like a salve

Helping me forget

The money I don't have.

2-3-14

 

A Tale

My father was tubercular,

Diagnosed at 20,

And couldn't leave his room.

That's all he ever said.

Before that, quite the guy!

Football star and girls,

Starred in all the dramas,

Sang in all the plays.

College was for fun.

Only there a year.

His woman was a beauty.

My mother was a drag.

Did he die alone,

Festering within?
Ten years with his mother

Screwed up his perceptions.

1-3-14

 

Contemporary Life

Colleges say never read the text,

Just the little summaries

After every section.

Policemen beat you bloody

For the law that's on the books

At the time.

And surgeons leave a sponge

In you. And psychiatrists

Prescribe a medication

That's wrong.

Yours is a different diagnosis.

Preachers scr-w the women that are

In their congregations,

Or a prostitute in New York City.

And frigid little women

Worship fathers, dead, perverted,

And long to be accepted by the tribe.

Contemporary life. This country's

Governed by a god,

And the angels on a bumper sticker.

2-3-14

Three Things

Wishy Washy feelings

Easily controlled -

My mother thought it funny.

She's dead and I am old.

Many years ago

Like something out of stock

I tried to be assertive,

Instead went into shock.

In a Jersey hospice

I took the nurse's med,

Dropped into a vertigo,

Woke screaming on a bed.

2-1-14