Flasher

A high class, royal flasher,
this straight lace, Kate of Middleton,
who yet one day may queen or moon us

Sigh Britannia, even I an ancient pagan Celt,
feel your indignation. What tomfoolery was that
in all of Windsor coronations

in which the Jacks you flag like crazy
the nation handkerchiefs a fluttering
the noses running,

the tear ducts flooding.
One last bon voyage, already!
Float the boat a while longer.

A Nipple?

A nipple, for crynowloud,
all that fuss over a nipple.

The nose expresses more character
than the lowly nipple.

Even in terms of eroticism,
the nose has more functionality.

Mary Jonas

Me and Mary never had a bad trip
W,e were babes in the woods
till third parties got involved

Thus, I haven't had a joint in 30 years
The stuff they grow nowadays, I wouldn't dare,
Frankensteins are built in cellars

I'd only trust my own home grown product,
where Ra would be Ra
and not be florescent lighting.

So here I sit celibate to smoke rings
until Pink Floyd's rabbit, hopefully,
discovers the portal to Big Bang,

Still, in the three decades since I last rolled
the temple incense, I've developed
a new attachment to  classical jazz

Mary Jonas, I love you.  I really do,
I have desired you at times exceedingly,
but  one should not turn back, wife of Lot.

Forward is  to get over it!

Everybody be Strong

Did you like it, dearie?
Did you like it glad or dreary?

Both ways I liked it.

Why did you like it dearie?

It was deep, it was purple
it was rhythmic and richly textured

It swayed, it made me swagger
It was metal butterfly

Sigh Becoming

Always one more time again
your piano touch too much
the rose petal littered bedroom
the candle lit balcony, 20 stories up
silent gliding traffic, rain dense Tudor Village,
the clime of moment, the tenor sax pain of living
is it any wonder, eyes are first to well.

Isaac

Aquatic voice stirs off the coast of West Africa,
murmured across the Atlas,
met a beetle in the desert,
hugged the Leeward Islands,
chugged up the Gulf passing Tampa,
reached inland where from Katrina left us.

History is similar

Fear of Heights

I imagine myself standing on the head of a pin,
the antenna of the Empire State Building.
My heart races, the palms of my hands sweat.

If it breezes just a little,
my dress will sail, so will I.
"Oh God, send me a blimp."

I fear, God does not dispatch blimps in these New Testament times.
If one really believes in God, one should not fear any thing,
but I do.

If I really believed in God,
would I do the naughty things I do?
I'll move on .

Maybe, it's heaven that scares me, maybe it's  deportation,
It's tough living illegal in Gringolandia
where your Spanish accent flags you everywhere you go.

Back in Peru, under the comforting jungle canopy,
Rosario Rincon had no fear of heights.
I did have apprehension concerning an Amazonian creature,

called the bachaco bird ---chicken shit
compared to the complexities
of living in The Bronx.