My Fowl Mouth

My fascination 

with ducks

has seemingly

skyrocketed

since autocorrect

entered my life

30 Apr 2020

Ring Around Corona

Ring-a-round the rosie,

        Respiratory droplets, 

A pocket full of posies,

        Toilet paper in our closets,

Ashes! Ashes!

        A plague on our nations,

We all fall down,

        Dying in 

                                                    isolation.

28 Mar 2020

Hear it performed, featuring Jasmine Shadburn

Your Voice Did Not Offer Ambiance

Your conversations
flowed loudly,
seemingly oblivious 
to the beauty
of the lone guitar
and stunning voice
behind it

Your unrequested
noise sent waves 
that crashed
into my eardrums,
conflicting with the
music that was
so much better 
than anything
you had to say

29 Feb 2020

A Partial Love Affair

Dear Columbus, 
I’m not fond 
of your traffic
nor the struggle 
to find a parking space 
and I have no love 
for the street parking 
on both sides 
that leaves a 
two-way one-lane road,
but, oh, 
your vegan food is divine

3 Sep 2019

No Socks, No Sandals, No Service

I feel, more and more,

like I am dressing

like a dorky old man

But if the socks

and sandals fit...

24 Jul 2019

Roses from Nantucket

Roses are red,

the man from Nantucket said

Though I’m not sure he’d

sniffed one his whole life

Violets are blue

He said that too

Though I’d wager

he couldn’t tell

one from an orchid

So there he sits,

all broken-hearted

I didn’t realize

he was color blind

28 Jul 2018

Dedicated to my vintage base ball team

I was writing a poem and I needed one more word for ways we can drink (chug, gulp, etc). The guys I play ball with know a lot about drinking, perhaps less about poetry, but that was unimportant. So I sent a text message to them and they indeed gave me an answer that worked perfectly. However, when they asked why I asked, they proceeded to text back lines from the poems referenced here (Roses are red, There once was a man from Nantucket). So I turned it into a poem. This one is for you.

Cat Dreams (Alarm Clock Poetry)

I don’t remember 
how the argument
started, or even 
all that it involved

But she stormed 
from the house,
grabbing the key
with her paw

I followed out the door,
and heard it shut,
locked, behind me

She chose a strange path
and I almost didn’t follow,
still upset from our quarrel

But then it dawned on me
Whether she was right
or she was wrong,
it didn’t matter
All that mattered was
that she had the key

4 Apr 2019

The Finish Line is Simply a Mirage and I’m Tired of Running

“Nice guys finish last”

Or maybe, nice guys

don’t view life

as a race to be won,

a competition

where the goal

is to step on

and leap over

anyone in our path

Leaving others trailing

in our furious fumes

might not, in fact,

be the best

we can do

When will we realize

that stopping to

help others does

not slow you down

because the track

is a damn circle

and there was

never a need

to start a stopwatch

8 Apr 2019

Just Because It Rhymes Doesn’t Make It True

When two vowels go walking…

a lot of shit can happen

Sure, sometimes things 

seem straight and plain

Other times 

things get weird,

awkward, and

inconvenient

Friendships are built,

enemies appear,

alliances can be found

Perhaps the vowel pairs 

were insufficiently prepared 

for the trouble

they would encounter

Sharing Tokes with a Snake

“such strange 

things cross

my mind

while I’m high,”

the snake said

as she passed the joint 

for my turn

intrigued,

I inquired further

as to what might

have entered

her reptilian mind

as she draped

herself 

in the chair 

beside mine

“frogs,” she said

I waited while 

smoke and silence 

filled the room

but she offered

no elaboration

I could wait 

in silence

no longer

“what about frogs

felt so strange?”

“their lack of manners,”

was all she added

if I had been more alert,

I might have asked

how she managed

to pass me the joint

without the benefit 

of having hands,

but I was too busy

wondering if I had 

ever encountered

overly rude frogs, 

details like hands

slipped my mind

at the time

Spring 2018

inspired by a dream I woke from

It’s Too Early for Math (A True Story)

Evaluating the amount of cat barf

against the proximity to my body

as I was startled from

my nighttime slumber

failed to equal the amount

of tired I was

28 Mar 2019