Thursday, December 23, 2004
The Automatic Doors at WalMart on December 23rd
Christmas prayers New year dreams Our pennies rattle In the Salvation kettle While we hope for change
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Monday, December 6, 2004
Immigrant On His Barstool
I’m an engineer! Believed in America. No luck yet. Ex wife gave me good daughter; Beer and dreams now my riches.
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Friday, December 3, 2004
Fluffy's Metamorphosis
Fluffy was a prince of paupers, Brought to the city against his will. His domain was straw and mommy’s milk, And farmer’s mice to kill. An afternoon car ride changed all that And turned Fluffy into a cat Full of savvy and herbal thrill Upon his master’s windowsill.
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Monday, November 29, 2004
Ode to Frank
My father, who knew everything, is a mystery to me. His notes line the margins of his poetry books, speaking a grown-up language I don’t really understand. His war medals sleep in a box beside my bed, the tin eyes of his dog tags closed to the horror they’ve seen. His snapshots cover musty pages of...
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Wednesday, November 24, 2004
John the English Country Gentleman
Devolopers and bunny rabbits are both a target at your Berkshire cottage; your charge is the very essence of Watership Down. Here, in God’s simple kitchen, nature is sacred, and hares’ blood, spilled in the course of preparing dinner, is simply wiped up with a dishrag, tossed with accurate aim into...
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Monday, November 22, 2004
The Ultimate Crock
Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful; my face a curse to me. I’m really very complicated – Ideas A to Z! My shoulders in my starched white shirt Cannot your burdens bear. I’ve got my own griefs and agenda Despite my sexy stare! Do not rope me – Let me breathe! Do not hold me – Let me leave! Do not...
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Sunday, November 21, 2004
Crooked Teeth
Her smile is a beacon to impoverished folk. It says, “I know where you’ve been, Sister!” Too much bread and not enough fruit; plenty of excuses. “Next year we’ll take care of those choppers.” Her words are launched on the wings of dead yellow birds that her eyes and laughter hold aloft. And those...
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An Arabian Tanka
Waiting for my love A masculine melody Moon and stars filtered Through pine trees lining the mile- Long walk to my parents’ house.
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Saturday, November 20, 2004
Execution Order
The worst part was when you so bravely scraped yourself off of the shallow molding and kicked one aphid leg hopelessly behind you in an effort to get on your feet amidst the awful, milky puddle of your own guts. “Should I kill it?” the new mom asked, as you ran for the door, your black armor...
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Thursday, November 18, 2004
Suburban Pond in Morning
Birds singing, Chirping out the morning’s news. The glassy pond ripples; the water’s grooves reminding me of the panes of old houses made before everything was so perfect. Sunlight plays off of bending branches that intertwine; the simplicity of curve and bend that Chinese art captures so well. The...
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