poem

 Oracle

There were pies hanging 

From the apple trees

And cookies swaying 

In the wheatfields

I'm always seeing things

Two or three steps ahead

There was a ring on your finger

When you were a little girl.

The first time we made love

Our child was telling us

To please keep it down.

And now I see the face

Of a tired old man

Tiptoeing around the edges

Of a hole in the ground. 

The house has gone silent

With everyone gone.

The boy in the backyard

Is on his way to the cemetery 

With his pretty young wife and baby son

With flowers to be laid 

At the foot of the stone

Marking the spot

I have always known

9/14/25

poem

 Inversion Table

I use an inversion table for my back

Even gravity is a therapy  

Like a thermal bath or the alpine air

Of a swiss sanatorium
The difference is the resistance

It takes to maximize its benefits

Which is how I prefer

To receive my natural cures.

When I go out in the sun

I cling to my pale skin

Like a novice to his virginity.

I meditate in the middle of active

Urban construction zones,

Take a couple sips of herbal tea,

Slosh it around, then spit it out.

At the spa it’s no touch massage

And a refusal to sweat in the steam room.

Sometimes I can make a cold plunge boil.

In bed, I listen to binaural beats

And see how long I can stay awake.

I fight everything every step of the way.

It’s resilience I’m after.

If you don’t fight it, you’ll fall.

Even love is a luxury good

That only heals once

It’s been first resisted. 

That’s why I pull away

When you reach for me 

And when I really need you 

I wander for a while 

Looking for you 

In all the places I know

You won't be.

That's how you know my love

Is strong.

9/14/25

poem

 End of Summer

Strange

It’s the last day of August

And unseasonably cool

The sky a soft endless blue,

A pool you could write on

With clouds like Ice Age continents

Seen from space,

Two planes lacing the open

Seas between them with fading thread.

The light is brassy.

Individual objects seem preternaturally

Distinct like reflections in polished steel. 

You could spend the rest of the day

On one single tree, its greens,

Its thousand hidden shadows,

Each leaf a thin slice of jade

Dancing with one several branches away.

I wish I hadn’t seen it.

It’s too much responsibility

For average men like me.

I’ll fail to depict it

Properly, let alone artfully,

Obscure it under an avalanche of wrong words.

(Even avalanche isn’t quite it)

I see now why some religions

Forbid its believers from saying

The quiet name of God out loud

 

9/14/25

poem

 Apprehended

I caught myself,

red-handed,

Trying to capture myself.

Sheepishly, I pleaded ignorance.

When that didn’t work

I put it all on myself—

Weren’t you hungry?

Haven't you ever felt loved?

The penalty for unauthorized attempted

acquisition

Is 25 years to life in a work house 

In a small town just on the outskirts 

Of international waters.

Here, you’re both the sheriff and the burglar

Tasked with trying to stop yourself from getting what you

covet.

To escape, just use the keys

Jangling from your waist.

That’s part of the job, too

9/14/25