The Four

The Four

Charlie and John, Nuskey and Buck

Towered right over both people and luck.

A trenchant awareness allowed them to see
Right through the common folk watching TV.

One of them mingled, and two withdrew.

The fourth one in favor with god just grew.

Aloof, esoteric, a heavenly law

Showed them the truth in whatever they saw.

While I sat in silence beside the sea

And hadn't a clue what they wanted with me.

Dr. Mary Knell Kelly

In misery he said to her, “But I

Try so hard to understand. I try.”
Mary quite pretentiously said, “Why

Don't you just admit that you don't know?”

He didn't say a word, nor with a look,

He stood and left. The doctor with a sigh,

Smugly said, “That's that.” And closed the book.

The Covers

Of all my books, the ones I like the best

Are not the best.

I think I like the covers.

The covers are my father's favorite color.

Brown.

And that's my mother's maiden name.

I did not my like my parents.

I don't want them back again.

Do some Freudian dynamics

Make me like these somber covers?

Would Jacqui have an answer?

Bet your ass!

Thinking About It

Movies from the 40s make me cry.

Can I put some feeling in my poems?
Never telling Keats goodbye.

It's difficult. It's treachery. Unfair.
Also William Shakespeare -

A wealth of feeling there.

Elizabethan games -

Words and sense and meaning.

Death impending tames.

Too many things are going wrong.

Too few are going right.

Is that far dark and distant cloud
Eternal night?
I've hope written poesy

That's beautiful and fey.

Have I written some today?

Life is worthless without play.