Hawk King

There is no time that is not now,
so stop talking about traveling through time.

You're talking about falling through a hole.

With all due respect,
you're there already.

Let's Party

Tell me Webmaster, is this for real?

Replies a character on my right shoulder:
Dig it, you got the shovel. Here's the chance
to hurl stones and not show your glass side.

Then, and angel on my left side intervenes:
Every swinging Dick here and tender Jane is crying loud.
Here's your chance to serve them rum and myrrh.

Ain't goofing good on an otherwise abysmal Saturday night!

To The Lady of The Book and Torch

Great day in the morning!
I'm here to tell you, I just won the visa lottery,
and I'm off to the dazzling country.
Boy, am I a lucky maiden!

I have heard that there is some disenchantment there,
that there are more prisoners there than Cuba.
Still, nothing beats not ever having a chance
at a piece of the pie in your native Siberia.

I have died a hundred deaths under communism,
due to having been born queer, because all I ever wanted
our of life was to be my own free agent.
Can you dig it?

In not kissing commissar ass, I've shunned rank and privilege.
Give me an American style romp, a free for all
where winners at investing are permitted to clean off the table.
Truly, all is well that escapes the gulag.

Off to America, in pursuit of take it or leave it!

Free Style

Tom's woes and joys were recorded on three hole, blue line paper.
Different openings, the same conclusion --- shredder fodder.
Tom really didn't have much to write about.

His mental block was the cleanest of slates, but write Tom had to
as Kenyans run, as bowlers bowl,
as peepers can't help leering.

Voyeurism produces fruit.
Writing juices.
Pulp is good.

How Very English

croak, croak
chirp chirp
crick cricket

Before the Anglos and the Saxons ferried to Britain,
a rudimentary form English may have already been spoken
by the wee cricket people of Cherokee Country, present day Georgia.

Emerald

These swollen hands,
this weathered brow
neath tattered cap of salmon catch

My rubber boots,
three times bartered, thrice resoled
am I the stronger for past displacements?

I dare not say,
but that my soul belongs to Ireland,
for Ireland made me Irish.

Sunday Thought

The appreciation of nature
is the purest form of worship