Tuesday, October 30, 2007

A Song About the Moon

I wondered, as I stared up at the sky
This morning, is this half a moon enough?
The darkness lets a lot of things slip by:
Clouds vanish swiftly at a sudden puff,
A gust of wind in the unsettled night
Dispersing them to all the compass points,
Blowing the stars past in a burst of light,
Stinging my eyes, an aching in my joints.
I can’t remember all the folderol
About the blue moon, or the harvest moon
That comes around here early in the fall
And leaves, like autumn’s breath itself, too soon.
Do I anticipate despondency?
Not I. I love night, unreservedly.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Chump Change

You loved your mangy hound, and fed him treats
From your own plate, making your mother cry.
She didn't understand – neither do I,
But who cares what your stupid, spoiled dog eats?
My dog likes cheesecake and assorted meats,
Which I don't give her. She is table-shy
(My wife's active right foot will show you why)
After a series of hard-fought defeats.

Who said life had to be perfectly round,
Brimful of insights, even free of mange?
It could be cold, delightful, savage, strange,
And death could be the same. Watching the ground,
You find tombstones, making a ticking sound,
Gold-plated tin, reasons to live: chump change.

Friday, October 12, 2007


I put a cake of margarine on ice,
And tracked the jaguar to a forest glen
Where it embarrassed forty-seven men
Who dreamed of dancing in a pot of rice.
The dance was very bad, lacking in spice,
And most were graceless as a laying hen.
The jaguar exercised a healthy yen
To nibble on some toes, its only vice.

Yet I will dance tomorrow, in the glade
Above the stand of maples, and today
There will be more delights than I can say
To celebrate the stars that wink and fade
Like margarine in soup, so tell the maid
We're skipping lunch, and let the oboes play!

Monday, October 01, 2007

After an Absence

I've been away for weeks, but now I'm back,
Fourteen more wacky lines of poetry,
What everybody still expects from me.
I really was away, so please, no cracks
About undue devotion to sweet snacks
Or goddesses quick-stepping from the sea
To hand out swords and cups of Ceylon tea.
I rise above such crude, needless attacks.

You must have wanted sonnets, since you're here;
I haven't offered anything but that,
So if you thought you'd find a bowler hat
Or ozone from the upper atmosphere
You've come to the wrong place. Try not to sneer —
You've come for sonnets. I won't leave you flat.