Saturday, March 31, 2012

Glad We Came

Did I remember to turn off the stove?
I haven't been away from home that long,
But now my memory is not so strong
That I could tell you, when I start to rove
From shore to sea to island olive grove
And back to city streets, where I belong
(Inside a small hut by a billabong?),
With whom, or if my lover's eyes are mauve.

If my apartment has burst into flame
It may not matter if I lose my way
And can't return because I'm lost today,
So why the worry, why the fear of blame?
Arriving here at last, we're glad we came,
And we'll eat raw food, cooked through by decay.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

I Don't Anticipate

I don't anticipate the setting sun,
But dark returns each night. Yes, I forget
That stars will show after the sun has set,
And once the moon appears, the comets run
Across the spotted sky, then night is done.
Red hints of morning fill us with regret,
Dawn is a wrong turn, frightening, ill-met,
Unwanted, cruel, no friend to anyone.

I don't like change. If only things stood still —
Time, love, the stars, the nightingales that sing
And disappear as I'm awakening —
I could be happy. Do I feel a chill?
The moon will never stop now, but I will:
I don't anticipate continuing.

Monday, March 05, 2012

Imperfect Cultural Gathering

You see I'm downing blini, caviar,
And frozen vodka shots. I'm with my pals,
Two college dropouts, three fine standup gals,
And two amigos I met in a bar
At university, not very far
From stinko, which I'd say is where we are
After the seventh blini. Deux chevals,
The meaning of existence, Bach's chorales,
And flies spark open minds, our brains ajar.

The someone slams El Greco: "He paints crap."
Now, who could blame me for expressing hurt?
"You, sir," I softly speak, "Are worthless dirt
And probably afflicted with the clap."
We then exchange three punches, one quick slap,
And further pleasantries, both sharp and curt.