All the way back to the bank

The mint is making the dollar bills thinner this year.
So my wallet says, when I want to buy beer.
buying and selling companies hinders my career
This house of cards will fall soon I fear
Checks bouncing all the way to the bank


The body eclectic

Oh the forms of human fleshy bits!
Myriad colors shapes and sizes
These soul-worn human suits
Come in so many guises

Some lean, some tall
Some fat, some small
Different variations
Of less, or more

And those of us who even more so
There’s a guy with fourteen toes
A girl with no arms at all
We make our ways, we comes and goes

Some play and bend, push and shape
Or wear high pointy shoes, and a cape
Each with a soul behind the wheel
Of these earthy meaty rides

Some where along the way
The fun thins out, we cease to play
And forget the flesh for a while
And often frown more than smile

But before long with that kind of tone
The muscles sinews joints and bone
With aches and pains will remind
The wandering mind of erstat home

So if two fine hams 
have caught your eye
Go sing that song, don’t be shy
Come, explore, enjoy

Poets united


Saddlebacked barn lumbering
Hunkering, joints faltering, slowly
kneeling down into the tall grass
Back flecked with moss and lichen
in this spot where she stood
Now she sits, soon will lay
Fallen, and decay

Based on the photograph by Sharon Knight of the same title, as prompted by

They say these sounds are still there

the humming thrum of the worlds greatest city
millions of humans milling about, based in
their bustle. motors, horns bleating
electric fans, heating machines. pumps
light leaks out of their valleys
they say the stars are still there…


propellers and jets strafe the skies
one thousand two hundred times a day
spraying exhaust in ever widening radii
adding din to the daily hum, until
on the 11th day, twin towers struck
burned and buckled, collapsed on
two thousand corpses crushed. The FAA
shut the airports for two days.


Out beyond the ‘burbs, amid the news or horror
in the air a silence profound, like snowingness
you could once more hear the birds sing
the flick of a hummingbirds wing
the laughter the violets bring

20180104 For the prompt, silence.

The face of grace

Sunlight licking down
Head thrown back, breasts out
Heart open as a warmth pours in
Wraps his arms around, And lifts!
Yet that lifting allows a sinking down
Settling in, surrendering
An earthy heat stoked beneath
Igniting hypocaust
Powdery frozen comet-tail sparks…
To move from this space
With all this in place
Can only be with grace