The Looks

A man came into Starbucks
His beard lumberjack full
His hair hippie long
Pony tail and all
Fleece, jeans, sandals
All presenting a granola aura
That was given a bit of an edge
Due to the big Jim Bowie knife
Strapped to his hip
He also wore a huge smile,
Thanked the barista,
And cleaned up after himself

His jury, only by masculinity,
Was two older guys
Fifties or so,
Their coolness displayed
In nylon tight fitting shirts
Advertising Trek or some biking gear
And that middle aged paunch
The recreational bike riders often lug around
They hobbled on tile floors in their clip-in bike shoes
Passing judgment on the steel wearing hipster
Like he was some sort of weirdo
In his absence of neon and Lance Armstrong rationalizations

Maybe that is why
They wore pants with padded crotches
To protect their little balls since
They cannot let others be themselves
While their little bike culture
Tries to pass itself off
As mainstream
And who really wants mainstream
All homogenized and lock step with the marketed times
So superior in its acceptance of cool
So neglectful in its arrogance of those unlike them


Talking Trash

I’m all for a good ribbing, but

Some blows are just too low to

Take without a come back

Okay, Tampa Jim, you’ve had your say,

About it being cold…70-degrees…and needing pants

Instead of shorts

Well you take your balmy whether,

Golf on demand,

And little lizards running everywhere

Because we’ve got layers of clothes to peel away

Since it’s too hot…23-degrees…and we don’t need a heavy coat right now,

Just a long sleeve T and sweatshirt

We also have crusty snow with yellow stains,

Cars covered in salt, and

The promise of more fluffy stuff tonight

So take that!

Wait, you’ve been wearing shorts?

Oh, I should probably stop now.

Stay warm…


Saturday

Running around

Basketball

Airport

Taxes

Dinner

Then it’s Sunday

Work already…


Happy Birthday

Tomorrow is your birthday

We just talked and did all the well wishes on the phone

But during my ride home I started thinking of you

My memories of us, of you 

(Did I break a comma rule there?)

So let me rattle a few off young girl…

The water at Fort Eustis is freezing

And you can swim for a long time.

Scrambled eggs are good

But yours are AMAZING!

Banana seats on bikes are rough

You had the right idea with the hammock gizmo

“Fantasy Island” and “Starsky and Hutch”

Weren’t as good as I thought, nor

As bad as you believed

Writing feels great

And thank yous are important

Your kids, especially the oldest,

Turned out pretty good

Madonna has nothing on you

When it comes to changing styles and reinventing herself

Hopefully she will have learned a thing about class

When she’s ninety three

I love you, Grandmom.


Whistling,”Farmer In the Dell”

My backyard had an

Alfred Hitchcock meets Omar Little

Kind of groove going on

The snow sent sparrows scavenging

On my neighbor’s deck

For their morning hit of seeds and bird feed

Geese were honking and indiscriminately 

Doing their business without worry for sanitation

The whole scene was aviary chaos, busy

Then all at once

The geese looked like a biker gang hitting the road

Taking flight under duress

The sparrows fled to the woods

Hiding in the scrub, motionless

A few seconds later

A hawk flew in

His chest puffed out

He glare imposing and unworried

His presence known, his authority expressed

His interest waning

The powerful bird flew away.

The sparrows returned


Early Morning

Around four in the morning 

I woke to a fright

I’m quite unprepared to discuss

Rest assured there is no danger

Only a shocking wake up call

To attempt falling back asleep

I warmed up the old Comcast headache.

Scrolling through the guide

I stumbled upon an old Dinah Shore show

In black and white even

Surely I would be out soon

Nope.

Joel Osteen. Nope.

NBA highlights. Nope.

Nothing.

Let the darkness bring peacefulness

To my weary bones tonight.


Forgetfulness

All the ideas I had earlier
Have taken leave and
I’m a little frustrated

There was something about
Buying a smoker’s house
Before purchasing one where the owner fried onions
Because I detest onions so

There was something else about
Which offered a greater reward,
Reading the book
Or watching the movie

Early on, a mid-twenties dude
Tried to sway my independent, albeit, liberal leanings
To conservative thought
On guns, health care, and terror. (Snoozerama)

I suppose the ideas were fleeting
Maybe I should carry a journal
To keep track of all this stuff


Channelling LA and JS

Oh, Superman, rise with the pain of your loss
Go spinning the Earth
Back to the time when
People had manners and respect for older folks
Since you’re Superman
You’ll be able to send the planet
Back as long as it takes

Because I’m guessing it’s going to take awhile

Oh, Superman, rise with the promise of your heart
Go spinning the Earth
Forward to a time
When people have manners and respect for older folks
Since you’re Superman
You’ll be able to help people evolve
No matter how long it takes

Because I’m guessing it’s going to take awhile


Stunted

Linear thinking
The bane of growth
And decency


Melt, Snowman, Melt

A noble dog who
Wakes from sleep
Whenever he hears a baby cry
Or a woman’s scream
Whether on television or on walk
His instinct is to protect,
To comfort
But his burly presence
Has limits,
The howl of arctic winds
Leave him barely able to focus
And the rounds of a snowman
Put him in that get or be gotten posture
That does more to harm his reputation
Than all the good
From his caring, family man way
Let this sun stoked respite
From winter’s prolonged attack
Burn away these temporary statues
Freaking out my dog


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