Looks Can be Deceiving

Gorillas look ferocious
but are in fact timid creatures
Giant Pandas look like they should be related to grizzlies
Not even close, to raccoons they are cousins

Oh, for families as caring as those of highland Gorillas
Oh for girlfriends as cuddly as bamboo-chewing Pandas

The Likelihood of Suicide

Not every suicide is blatant
Some are choreographed perfect
to pass as unexpected, shockingly cardiac arrest

Smooth Criminal,
Preemptive Final Curtain
I'll remake myself dead

Darker than Night, More Lovely than Day

When night descends upon your garden
sprinkled with salt, the sweat from your torso
the age of your forehead

Garden combed with callous hands
the lot the Crows left behind
littered with junk

tires and broken lawn mowers
and the toys the little Crows forgot...
When night descends upon your garden

of grass, and flowers and new found memories
When dawn breaks on your acreage
tidied, reseeded, planted and groomed

Tons of rocks you rearranged multiple times
A pond you dug and stocked with fish
to which insect skaters migrate for those same fish to eat

You give each thought, you speak to each
In garden center, you set a gazebo and mounted atelescope
From your garden of angles you eyeball the heavens

You commune with the spirits
you --- darker than night,
more lovely than day

Soul Play

A story of quiet, a story of passion
rotation of axis, of plows pulled by oxen
Night emerges, stars evolve

Come, dusky maiden
Allow me to see your dainty feet
ankles bejeweled, bells on your wrists
Your fingers are cranes looking to fish

Pluck my strings, story of essence
Your preexistence becomes the sitar
Soul, play this raga for Mother India

Kids

The child in us
who always was and always will be
defend, shelter and instruct

Sex Edcation and Terms of Contract

I man, you woman
mutually attracted
mutually convenient

The following would you kindly answer?
One ought not ask a lady her age
Still, it's good to have an idea

Are you old enough to be my mother?
I will honor you, then, as if you were
Could you be my sister?

Permit me to be a brother, Sister
Young enough to be my daughter?
Damn those who would be lecherous

Collection of Waters

Breaks a monsoon
Its deluge refrains a bit
New moon night, new shadows hunger

Drops run into drips
onto leaves and ferns
Breaks a new day upon the lily pads

The skating insects arrive to surf
Fish lip gasps and flashes of scales
Like lighting devours, mosquitoes are swallowed

Coos a bird and scream the monkeys
Cycles are always only half complete
The river starts where the flood moves south

Hold on to Your Crotch

From low to high
you thrill me to death
you cheer me to silly

And because you cheer me willy nilly
I can only bear being alone for so long
You are my lovers of hungry eyes

You are my lovers of tumultuous voices
of tentacles and suction cups too wonderful
which stick to me sublime, which egg me on

Shimmering chandelier spinning over my skull
mirror, mirror on closet door
who's the greatest Pinocchio that ever was?

From low to high, the opposite effect
of once was spurned
never loved

More to Come

The cult of gore kicks and swells,
dishes us morsels of murderous ways,
holds us glued to breaking news.
Violence lures and, of course,
sex in the mix. All is vanity,
all is bait and ratings.

It's okay. We like to think we live as far from violence
as we can get. Not as far from sex
as we should.

And now a word from our sponsors,
who purpose us the surest path to happiness:
Toilet paper that is softest;
appliances to solve stickier problems;
reassurance political and otherwise.
All is necessity... soo the sponsors would have us think.

The Occupiers would be more effective
if they could successfully organize
a boycott of everything.

In Memory Of

The heart of the sad song is the after
The core of the musical orgasm is the before

Lose identity and find purpose

There is no other way for this artist to die
but by a stiletto strike to the heart

PHS (Post Honeymoon Syndrome )

She adores Chippendale and Early American
The French style is pure cake and icing
The girl deserves a bedroom worthy of Oprah,
Feminine furnished corner to corner

The boy's tastes run counter to popular culture
Clutter for him is anything more than a desk and a chair,
the sure demise of law and order,
the end of pacing uninterrupted.

A bedroom without mirrors...heaven to Betsy!
No dresser, no mattress, no bed posts to grab on to.
Who do you think you married, Jack?
I'm a woman, not a religious order

To make love on a bare floor
is not good for the knees
is certainly not good for the Rib.
I'm a woman, not a rug, not a dog

Him trues to explain his position
"That's why we have air mattresses,
they're deflatable and easily stored,"
She replies, "That's why failed marriages."

Exit and Enter

Round me off to my nearest completion
Walk side by side, take me to your Big Heaven
As with a bride to the altar, steady me
Orchestrate me into your symphonic

Your presence be my evening
My dawning be your pleasure

Is That So, or So Bunk?

To stay strong
you have to be strong

To be strong
you have to become strong

To become strong
you have to overcome weakness

To overcome weakness
you have to maximize tolerance

Would You Like To Stare@The Menu

Factor in merit, like or not
You don't make the grade
you don't cut the mustard

Factor in sex, some like it hot
cheeks resembling buttocks
lips that hint at more than talking

Invention of combustion kept predators at bay
Then cometh slapstick to lighten exhaustion
Now at prime time, life is a metaphor for reality TV

Nephew Sam

How much weighs worry
in effecting current events?

That's Sam's predicament this a.m.
when in an instant, his cautious hedging is blown

All of his possessions gone in a flash,
plus other missed opportunities

in the sphere of the loving and living

Happy Independence Day

Brother Laurence prays in earnest
that sins to which he is prone ---
specifically, not invade devotion time

Devotion time is, indeed, the day long,
from early awake to pillow talk
be he peeling potatoes or policing the kitchen

Lo, one day his prayers are answered
The miracle occurs
Cravings for mating suddenly vanish

Of course, Brother'ss appreciative, if not exactly elated.
Battles to counter carnality's wrong inclination no longer in play,
the excitement of impending combat fizzles

Has good Brother Laurence achieved final victory?
Liberation through enlightenment, enlightenment through sacrifice
Or might there be another explanation?

Might testosterone levels in him dropped dramatically?
By pints subsiding. Praise to maturity.
Happy Independence Day!

Recycled

Don't tell me I'm not authorized.
I've already done it dozens times,
traveled the night beyond vertigo space,
passed through holes of every descript,
rabbit holes, peep holes and key holes, too,
wired and juiced, geared and tightly wound
Electric chairs?
I've sat on a few.
It's the same old trip on a different plane.

Last night on the prowl,
I stumbled upon a gentleman's bar
where I was admitted and seated up front.
Imagine my blush. What if my cover were blown.
Fortunately my hair was cut short, infantry style
and my breasts, they were perfectly flattened.
All in all, I looked like an underfed boy.
The waitresses were gazelles very straight laced
I'd say, they looked as if they needed a taxidermist's makeover
On stage was a rhino of mafioso proportions
who cracked jokes about crocks breaking wind underwater
Hey, if there's one thing I'm not --- it's green!

I was most recently born in 2008
and on other dates between then and an exit,
during the Battle of Vicksburg
where a Yankee gunner blew off my head
Happily, beyond vertigo space
there's no want of spare body parts
So here's Johnny, back on the mark
This time around, as Joannie Mitchell,
nicely reassembled, thank DNA for that!

Hey Fever

Evil genius has 10 thumbs
he uses to text abysmal failures,
but so daring shall these be
he marches off triumphantly
to stage them Wagnerian
for all to see.

Oh, for lead balloons,
and toxic gasses
jack boots
and, of course, crooked crosses,
flapping brazen
over Nuremberg's Gothic churches

What, you got an Auschwitz with that?
That's your problem
We bake pretzels,
not lox, not bagels.
Stuff that in your pipe,
and smoke it.

40 million cadavers later and at wits end
Hey Hitler orders a loaded pistol,
plus 10 full cans of high octane petrol.
Then, officiates marriage to Eva.
Thus completes unfinished business,
Hay Hitler's final will and testament.

Meine Herren, meine Kinder,
you German people,
you sorry asses,
alas, you proved yourselves inept,
and of me undeserving

Serial

The actions we take compound mistakes
the things we do are are the people we fake
the people we are are the chances we take
Risks' ratio to danger
The victims have theirs
Their exploiters their own

Gloria's back at her usual stand
has morphed in the mirror
transvests in the night
swings purse and hips on pogo sticks
down on the luridly, mean motel strip
her lips are penciled sharp

Eyeliner tight to the lash, mascara too caked
pantyhose wedged in the crack
It's the standard trick for 30 dollars a blow
the look in her eye of man eating tiger
where interstate truckers park overnight,
before resuming their 12 hour hauls

Cold Confession

A slight decline in rays reaching north,
and the forest seems torched
What magnificence is our Uni-Verse!

Could I be any creature but human,
I'd choose to be a spider
left alone to my engineering

Except there's a witch on the grounds
determined to kill every spider around
I married her... more than 30 years

Should I wish to see another spring?
Frankly...
I'm not one for wishing.

Renewal of Body and Mind

The calming of roar
in corridors and chambers
in one's inner person
The practice of silence forges integrity

It's fitting that when we speak of renewal,
we think of water which falls from on high,
and to the degree it continues to flow,
runs cool and fresh and quenches drought.

Ultimatum

"Give me liberty or give me death"
is not a petition, but an ultimatum,
which declares, one way or the other
I will be free

Preamble to Constitution

The pursuit of happiness
as it relates to society
is linked, is hinged
depends entirely on privacy

Privacy and invisibility is an underground fortress

The pursuit of happiness is the ultimate goal.

Ultimate

The keener one's vision,
the more invisible one can choose to be

Dialogue on Sky and Soul

We fancy that the soul might mirror the sky,
attempting transference of the sky's characteristics
to that which we're not even clear exists

So what are some of the sky's characteristics?
Blue it appears and seemingly inexhaustible

Similarly, a soul might mirror the Universe...
Ascribing to the Universe the characteristic that it could limitless,
a similar jive would be nice for souls to share with it

But where does the sky begin, that's the question....
Well go figure, it probably begins at our toes

And where do you reckon the sky tanks?
That's anyone's guess.
No one has figured how far it goes

And if the soul should mirror the sky,
might it somehow match it in volume and size?

As we live this, we know
a little bit at a time,
we breathe in and out the wild, blue yonder.

The Enemy's Face

Sinister presence
Having scrutinized his her features
this much I gleamed
under various ruminations,
chiaroscuro and lighting bolts

The enemy's face is not contorted
Indeed, it can be pleasant
Still, they have these terribly inverted faces

The truth I've seen in mirrors.

Walkabout

These tomes I'll pack and give away, the wordy books.
The picture books I'll keep a while longer,
For once a man, twice a child,
and once a child, an embryo who saw progression.

Migrating souls of painted mugs, of toughened feet
lifting dust heaven-up --- surround me near.
We'll not sweat the goblin stuff.

Give me spear to carry into forest night.
Instinct be my phantom ear.
No armored knights expect to find out here,
but woolly predecessors, ancestral ghosts
to and from planet walks.
In simple chants, in simple dance of stomping soles,
lifting dust heaven up.

The 6-foot Add On

The guys don't mess around like they used to.
There's a new Sheriff in town.
A new management is remodeling the joint.

An A+ is now the minimum passing grade in Conduct.
Anything less is considered an F,
and the Mean Machine will come down to bust your chops

And not just your chops, but those of your buddies.
Don't bother to look around to see who's doing what.
Best keep your eyeson the ground. You know nothing.

One of the boys really screwed up this morning
while Warden Driggsbee discoursed his usual first-thing-Monday crap,
someone accidentally burped.

Immediately, the goons went on alert,
As a result, we're all gonna pay the tab.
No one's sure it was even O'Neill who had the accident.

Three times a day, after meals, we usually get to walk the lounge,
a cage 10 feet by 30. Our cells by contrast are a meager 3 x 3.
It's our only break from the routine designed to numb our senses.

Today, because of the mishap, accidental or not,
we're ordered to remove the laces from our shoes and tie them together,
then tether ourselves to a bar in the lounge.

No more strolls in the lounge this week.
Six feet, instead, in the given direction.
These are humiliations we suffer daily

I ask Officer Jack, if I might be permitted to make inquiry.
"Shoot," ses he. I ask politely,
"How do you guys come up this stuff?"

Ses Officer Jack, "You're pushing the limits, Mister."
Fortunately, Officer Jack goes easy on me this time,
but to illustrate that curiosity has its perils...

"No 6-footer for you, O'Neill,
Three feet should suit you fine!"
You might ask, is this a prison or a day care center?

What kinda jail has inmates shod in sneakers instead of slippers
Are 3-foot laces a bit extreme?
Is there no concern for the potential for suicide?

Precisely!
The more babies aborted,
the less to do in the nursery.

Eight, Four, Two

Grandfather blessed the table, short and sweet
as much out of necessity as out of design
Only the kitchen supplied us heat
A benediction too wordy,
might turn the dinner cold
the fat on the plate might coagulate
and instead of hitting the sack with a meal pipping hot
we might go to bed with belly ache

The blessing was composed of 8 words
divided into 2 sentences, 2 words a pieces
all the words identical except for 2
the prepositions,"with" and "in"

Jesus be with us
Jesus be in us

Twenty Four Seven

The sweep of history
its sweepers, the apologists
the tomb raiders, its anthropologists

The finality of error
the shitty, the witty
the good, the bad and the wronged

The you-never-knew how-good-you-had-it
The cascading effects of Wall Street going south
From my hole in the wall, I ponder it all

With regularity I consult my crystal ball,
of 750 channel remote control
Vodka on hand to brace me

Burning Karma as if its Incense

Please, please, I don't wanna go!
Like it or not, likening it more than not
I go tickled and hot right up to the booth
to pay the dues I hate to pay. No more after today
Gosh, it's so roller coaster, it takes your breath away

Can you dig where I'm coming from?
You can? Poor you, poorer me.
Is there no one to reprove me but myself?

Back from the soiree,
feeling glum and self despised,
I hear the voice of Three;
"You got a problem? Just don't go."
Easy to say but how do I stop?

Man vs Beast

To say man is an animal who communicates at a higher level
belittles the dignity of those less powerful of the underworld
Fact is, animals communicate better than we do

Ever see a traffic jam on the highways of ants?
When animals wanna fight, they simply flash a fang
No hype, no moralizing to justify a pending slaughter fest

No beating around the Bush,
that the Pit Bull of Baghdad is stock piling...
Pray tell, what weapon is not a weapon of massive hemorrhages?

When animals wanna sex, they simple spray the scent
Female grizzlies do not put on g strings
nor screw fire station poles in front of raunchy crowds

However, where we have it over lesser creatures;
is that we can text and e-mail.
We can kill long distance

In Pursuit of Fitness

A garden can be kept on a window sill
A full workout can be accomplished in a bedroom
Space should not be an issue
only disposition

Perform exercises which keep joints flexible
From the knees up, one begins to age
Without plastic surgery you will look much younger,
if your hairy legs have not yet turned gray.

Find pleasure in being thrifty
Frugality is science and art
Be sweet, not confrontational
Forget to eat and sleep, sleep, sleep

To Buddhahood Onward

I think time has come for me to move on with life
Should ole acquaintances be forgot, well damn let them!
I've been too long held captive by the whims of others
like debates on patriotism and religious devotion,
sex and physical fitness.

Because I'[m an internationalist, I can not be a patriot.
Because religious talk is as boring as atheistic chatter,
I rather listen to Ravi Shankar than engage in either
As to sex, what is there to talk about?
As to physical fitness, why change my program?
Live free and forget to eat. Sleep as often and whenever you can.
That's it in a nutshell; eat, sleep and don't stop praying

Doing Time

I will not speak to immovable objects
like to gravestones and the maggot eaten,
napping beneath them

And nothing comes of speaking
to prison bars unless with hack saw
and/or dynamite

Clocks that don't keep time
are no better listeners
than fools young and old

If you show me movement,
I may converse awhile
like with trees on a hill blown by a gale

Or talk to passing light on fading barns
or like to the wheels of distant trains
turning inside out my Johnny Cash

Sabbath

How vulnerable we are to anger, cancer and aging,
how susceptible to the effects of gravity on sagging.
To trouble in general we are magnets.
Flies still adore us.

The only way to live, therefore,
is to die a little bit at a time,
as opposed to massively,
which always comes as a shock.

You die like this ---
a little bit at a time
by dieing to yourself
not all at once.

So that every good thing can speak to you its peace;
To yourself be true, and to thyself be nothing.

A Matter of Faith

Faith percolates from heart to mind
which upon reaching mind, opens it full throttle
to understand what by intellect alone is unattainable

Heart without mind is mindless,
but mind without heart is monstrous.

Should've asked her name

Adjacent to a bus stop
on the outside ledge of a brownstone window
several figurines are on display
sculptured in stones of crystallized minerals
villages and faces of elders, and animals of pasture
there traced since the time of seepage
before the artist found the stones
and put hand in relief

I ask a young lady by the exhibit,
( who I suppose to be the artist)
where the sculptures come from
"The Kalahari," she replies,
Without thinking I respond, "Oh, Chile"
No, no, not Chile. The Kalahari is in Africa
The Atacama Desert is in Chile, the driest place on earth.

Several small size paintings are also on exhibit
Never have I seen oils so vibrant, fluid and exquisitely crafted
one in particular, of a church portico, I'd spend a life to simulate
The artist's business card is also on display,
an address I shall not forget
which I may carry to the grave
in last famous words and grunts

56 East 10th
What's so special about this address?
Nothing, really. I just have a thing about numbers
Maybe in my last life I was a tax collector
or at that address, an altar boy

The Next Big One

The blind, the maimed,
the psychologically damaged
each has a war story to tell

The hero's account is glorious
The coward's, we try to keep under wraps

Truth be told, in combat, everyone runs.
Some to engage, some to retreat
Some to run for their lives

The shame of it is the insanity of it
It's over when it's over, and back to bu$ine$$

See America, China and Japan
Britishers, French and Goths
Not long ago, we hacked ourselves to pieces,
now hold hands and exchange sly kisses

56 East 10th Street

There is no night so dense
it is without form and shape
Moonlight may wane
Starlight will twinkle
The sky shimmers, nonetheless
Light gets through
Only in question, brightness and distance

In the darkest hour
in woodland shadows
there is gradation
there is distinction

Speaks the owl

In The End We Lose This Battle Too

There is a touch more than skin deep
a word, in truth, soul deep
There is a glance which looks beyond ---
an eye which looks to the Eye of Universe
Truth which radiates and emanates

Goddess

In the proximity of Dunnsville,
on the Highway to Life ( as called by the locals)
Route 369 as designated on road maps,
sits in an area, generally trailer park,
a building in a lot, movie set imposing
which once had been a warehouse for used auto parts
till a fan of fans bought the property for 50 grand
and in its remodeling, sunk another 80 thousand
to make the place, where Myrna Creed first got laid,
an "altar," a memorial, tall and proud and pink
in the Alhambra style, a temple to a goddess
movie legend, silver screen queen of queens
in her prime one good looker a la dish
of she who launched a thousand ships,
a Hollywood Helen of Trojans
a heart stopper, femme fatale
like Samson's hairdresser,
a watch-your-penis, Mister
my vulva can pinch like pincers.

The museum houses Myrna's personal effects;
photos and letters aglow from fans world wide,
gifts from lovers of every shape,
and a wardrobe you wouldn't believe -
more shoes than Ismelda Marcos
bikinis, night gowns and panties
in the hundreds of pounds, if weighed.
If we could have... surely we would have,
bottled her dandruff and goddess spittle
and other valuable parts.

All That Jazz

music is a star patch sing
beep bop, chain and swing
saxophone flashy brass
intercourse with full of lip
rouge and comb, magnetic ring
fireflies and comet tails
the smokey lounge, stand or sit
the keyboard fugue
across awaiting blacks and whites
and so much more that travels slow
that travels fast,
that travels high
that travels low
I can not think, it ever really stops

Mid Wake Confession

I love you tirelessly
mostly off the mark
incomplete is how I love you
incomplete is what I'm about
complete is but a distant longing
a wishing well where coins are dropped
where interest does not accrue
or maybe does
but from whom?

Nor do I love you more than words can tell
What words can't tell, writers cannot write
I wish it were otherwise
another penny to the bank.

Curled Around A Lamp Post

Ball and chain is love and marriage
wedding band and intolerance
a quiet snorer, a roaring lioness
who by sheer misfortune
got down with a moron,
she calls "Scratch"

You wonder why Scratch is a drunkard
He and the missus haven't had sex in nearly a month
To tell the truth, it's been more like a year

Suds

An upside down ocean pours out the flood
on Sandy Point, North Carolina
where spring sheetwrapped we weather the season
till the wanes signal winter,
and from under the mattress
we shake out the blankets

Another week or two, then south
Laura to paint a tropical rain forest
Me to transfuse a "new" kind of language
It's consolation that keeps us together
that like a pearl lodged in an oyster's membrane
removed from it, reflects heaven

In The Pink

Five fine chicks twitch shriveled hips
cowgirl heads in snake skin boots
skip and snap and shake them booties
Five they were, now they are four

Four so darn shootin' mamas
So senior citizen, so Social Security
Four less one beats none at all

Three forever pretty, darlings
scratch another
leaves two to tally

Don't stop, you go you fillies!
And just like that, the act goes solo.

Now, knees don't lock
Now, legs don't fall
Cue the music.
Spin and spin,
you ballerina

Mother Milk

Before I sought her in the morning
she called me hers

Before I recognized her
she gave me breast to feed

In her the past is pristine fountain
and trek of hooves and dusty feet

In her the future to reestablish
A Man, a Woman and me in them
In Africa, I am reborn

Foretold , Forewarned

I saw it behind me as I combed me hair
In the mirror shadowy, it lurked.
Of no face, it left no trace.
A flash, it left no tracks.

On another occasion, me thinks,
I saw it in neighbor's messy patch
Again, of appearance fleet
Perchance a poltergeist

Soon after, in still of night
strange sounds rumbled
I can not say for sure
if human or something in the pipes

Gribble, grabble,
grimm n grumble
yubee, yubah, gwabble gwabble
What the hell is dat???

I tell dis story not to scare,
but dat readers u beware
demons may have landed from the fringe
might even be on dis ear page

Got Milk?

One person has a thought which never departs,
that another also once might have had.
One gets up in sunshine and song,
be it drizzling, be it freezing.
The other gets up groaning,
scratching, smelling and bitching
be it Christmas or the rest of her life

The day's too long, too boring, not nice.
It's a sourness which never leaves her,
that gnaws on her soul, day and night. Who knows,
give up the affliction, she might be surprised.

One sister has milk,
the sad one has none.
You substitute for "milk"
the word that seems right

Settings

barrack style housing on route from shopping
living quarters for active duty personnel
ghost town aspect.
Where have all the sailors gone?

a child by a window
looking at the traffic whizzing by
scrawny white neath crooked blinds
Where have all the soldiers gone?

in an instant, a squid in vision
squirming in aquarium tank
where's his mother in the kitchen
When's his father shipping back?

scrawny housing by the road
the kid a window climbs
what's the relationship if there is any?
are there connections in verses that abstract?

I F

Trickiest word in any language

which in English is an acronym for"instructional fiction,"

without which there would be no speculative thinking

without which we'd be like absent thumb and index finger

because that is what "If" is, a linguistic thumb and index finger

two letter column that upholds question marks

Waiting on A Cab

Driving is allegorical to living
too fast, too parked
too rear view mirror
too time for scheduled tuneup

Hanged

Noise rages
Stillness still is still
Temper skims the surface
Serenity holds the deep

Don't Get Frazzled

Fibs thrive and propagate
a 100 lies per broadcast second,
you think you can buck?

Sit back and enjoy
as if
science fiction

Spinoza might have found her cute

Her eye she sets upon numeric sequence

she wills to create an exquisite effect

a rare and choice harmonic,
to hum her back in perfect rest

One blink, one inhalation
the desired cause initiates

How she did it, makes her wonder
She'll need to run another test

Retired

Like a miniature ship that's been bottled,
my womanizing days are corked

Grace of age rocks the chair,
window open to the sea,
watching gulls and strollers on the beach

Slam Dunk

There is a rhyme in its good time
cosmologically kosher front to rear
to which when keys are found
reboot the minds of them who dare
with powers extraordinaire,
making for super human thinking tanks.

Therefore, kindly, give me two,
one for him and one for her.
Wonder Woman and her lesser half.

Memories of Summer

The pollen hangers flake their crusts
into the bowls of June

while dragonflies hover,
their turbo thrusts equivalent

to seasonal sneezers'
sneezes

Stand-up Comic

Mr. Shapiro, Stella's late father
was a stern and bear kind of man,
a short fused powder keg,
whom I, Jacob, stroked with deference
being comedian, and knowing there are limits.

One day when Stella prepared us late night snacks,
In-Law Father and I shot the breeze,
a lively discussion on Kant and Kafka
and other less ponderous krap.
As we hopped around Eastern Europe,
I mused;"You know, Pops, in the final analysis,
Schickelgruper may have been an act of God."

Slowly and menacingly, Mr. Shapiro rolled up his sleeve
as if to warn me he was preparing to punch me in the schnauzer,
but flashed instead his World War II memento, his Buchenwald tattoo.
I should have shut my mouth before I'd have to see that number one more time.
I should have known better than to breach the subject of Schikelgruper's Reich.

That night in the toilet,
while flossing bloody my teeth in penance,
In-Law Father said to daughter:
That schmuck of a husband talks too much,
one day he'll find his feet in concrete.
You should have heeded your mother's advice,
and married Doctor Blum, the gynecologist.

Who should wanna live with a bozo the rest of his days,
who reeks of nicotine and of drinks-on-the-house?
"But Dad, Jacob makes me happy, " cooed Stella love of my life,
"He rubs my feet before I fall asleep,
and in between he tickles."

He's like a one man 1001 Arabian Nights.
What's more, since last October, when we got hitched,
every night when he's not working,
he reads me verses from the Book.
"Vat Buch?" sneered Meyer Shapiro
-The book, daddy, don't make me blush...
You know the book... the Kama Sutra book.

Change We Can Believe In

We awaken early, curtains blowing,
shutters slamming pissed against the house,
a stiff, unsettling rustle of leaves on Whirl Away Road,
a spring breeze gone wild which brings frost to June on Cape Charles.

Climate warming is a sneaky affair.
For all we know, the chill I'm feeling
might be from a glacier crawling out of my cellar.
I think I'll hibernate till July.