poem

 TV Guide

Channel 1: Friendly Enough

Channel 2: St. Otherwise

Channel 3: Trees jockeying for position in a crowded forest

Channel 4: Patiently making a left turn through a red light—It’s my right!

Channel 5: Vera and Bart

Channel 6: The $100,000 American Pyramid Scheme

Channel 7: Crossed wires, the history of bombs that never went off

Channel 8: 60/40, sometimes the best deal you can get

Channel 9: Texarkana. Arkadelphia. Calexico. 

Channel 10: Aka, the sous chef, valderrama’s revenge

Channel11: Buried skeletons— Ryan realizes he’s running out of lawn

Channel 12: The local news. A town you can see from your hotel window

Channel 13: Dinner at D’Agnese’s

Channel 14: Breakfast with Tiffany 

Channel 15: Bloviations of ridiculous men in corduroy coats 

Channel 16: Resentful Gen X sons

Channel 17: In-laws vs out-laws

Channel 18: A very special episode of family scoundrels

Channel 19: Eating alone, drinking with friends, then alone again, some sleeping, alone

Channel 20: Expensive leather bound journals no one ever writes in

Channel 21: Botanical remedies for mechanical breakdowns.  

Channel 22: Public access programming for the un-self-aware

Channel 23: Making sense of the brevity 

Channel 24: Buck Mingo and the Ambidextrous Kid

Channel 25: Please enjoy this moment of Zen (mathematicians calculating the number of seconds left in the lives of various insects)

Channel 26: Honest conversations with itinerant liars 

Channel 27: The Dude Newman Hour: reflections on a life 

Channel 28: Interesting Socks

Channel 29: Men in sleeveless shirts shouting about sports ball

Channel 30: Watercolor Police Procedurals 

poem

 Hugs and Kisses

If you don't wake up from this

We’ll continue the conversation

As if you were still here, saving 

The silences for all the words 

You probably would have said.

We won’t cancel our carefully

Arranged plans and not just because

It’s too late to get our money back.

You’d be furious if we ruined

A good time on your account.

Life will go on as before,

As if nothing ever happened

To no one. Yes, we’ll continue to set 

A clean, empty plate for you

For dinner every night. 

Saying goodbye now seems like bad luck

So let’s assume a successful surgery

And promise to love one another

When all the anesthesia wears off.

4/47/26

poem

 Risks and Benefits

I hate to be the one to say it

But no one really cares when

Your power has gone out again.

Get a generator, jackass

But no, you’re missing the point

The power shouldn’t be going out

At least not so often

Not every time it rains

In this godforsaken society

Where the billionaires are plotting

To commandeer the warmth of the sun.

We should all be in the streets

Chanting, pitchforks and torches

Because we deserve a much better life

Given what they force us to pay

In taxes. What do we get for them anyway?

Where’s my high speed train to Sausalito?

Why do you need a debit card first

Before you fix my open femur fracture?

I didn’t sign on to genocide

I don't care about the Ayatollahs,

Apache choppers, aircraft carriers or F35’s.

Don't make my kids weigh 

The risks and benefits of Hamlet’s

Dilemmas, “useless” degrees

That don’t pay the bills

But should. Turn the lights on.

Turn all the lights on

Now.

4/27/26

poem

 Family Reunion

At last my whole family is finally gathered again, all in one place. Unfortunately that place is a dive bar in the red light district of my brain. Every memory a shot of tequila downed before anyone can do a toast. Dad is telling soft lies and half truths again while the eldest son holds court in the kitchen conducting a chorus of rolled eyes. The kids table wobbles on uneven legs perched on the edge of a precipice. The TV is on in every room set to maximum volume. I’m putting in my time with the ghost of my grandmother to ensure I remain her favorite. Uncle Dave is harassing mom again with the wit of a weekend sports anchor. Some of the cousins are in the basement sorting themselves into a hierarchy of dishonesty. A man I’ve never seen before has stationed himself at the stove, slowly stirring the sauce.  The chksshhhhh sound of Natural Light cans opening resounds through the house like invisible insects. Spouses are gritting their teeth. The nephew you least expect has just polished off his third deviled egg. It’s buffet style, it’s a sit down dinner. There’s paper plates and plastic glasses. The Easter ham sits untouched on a cartoon turkey themed platter. The box wines are aligned on a shelf like encyclopedias out of alphabetical order. Uncle Walt has wandered away and won’t be coming back. Aunt Carol! Aunt Suzie! Aunt Sherry! This is the last time I will ever see you again! The children are all getting so big. We teach them charades like we used to play as kids. Rotate your wrist like you’re reeling in a fish. It’s a movie! Three words. Sounds like. First word. Three syllables. First syllable. My first guess is always “love” but I keep it to myself. It’s time to give the youngsters a chance.

4/22/26

poem

 The Couriers

Granddaughter conveys messages to mother

Daughter-in-law does the same to father

He’s so busy. It’s not what you think. He’s a good man. 

You know how he is 

It’s a one-way courier system.

Messages from the father and mother

Never reach their intended destination

But are stored for safekeeping 

As per protocol, according to the code

Of all couriers.

It isn’t important if the words 

Are never received 

Only that they aren’t lost.

Time takes care of the delivery

4/20/26

poem

 Impatients

Daffodils burst forth at the first hint

Of spring, firing when ready.

By the time I blossom

The sun is already too far away

It’s too cold, the days too short,

I’ve missed the torrents of April rain 

And the promise of the first warm day 

Coming out of a frost.

I’m not even considered part of the garden

Just an unexpected pleasant surprise. 

If I’m lucky I can be a flash

Of violet in a scabbed landscape

Stripped down, picked clean of its bounty

By hordes of hungry wanderers.

I’ve plucked each precious petal

For safekeeping. 

But you must hurry—

Most of this light touches us

Only briefly before it reflects

Back on a long retreat

To its place of blinding mystery

4/20/26

poem

 Easter

Easter occupies the realm 

ordinarily reserved for poetry

Only its believers prefer

 the term mystery

A place where faith is not certainty

but hope is the consolation

Where a light unveils everything

we otherwise choose not see 

Where the pale old man in the pew

cachectic and frail

Receives his final blessings

neither yes or no, false or true

Any poet who visits this cathedral

fancies himself a theologian 

If death cannot destroy love

then what does it matter

If there is a return of the flesh?

4/20/26

poem

 Movie Review

We bought tickets 

To a long, inscrutable movie

Even the subtitles don’t make sense

It’s hard to tell if what we’re seeing

Is supposed to be happening

Or if it’s just some mechanical

Malfunction with the projector

This was supposed to be a special night

You paid for dinner and I told you

Things I’ve never said before

The only time I cry is at movies 

Or when I’m tired and alone

I thought this would also do the trick

Because sometimes you need

A good cry

Holding hands in the dark

Would be the perfect title 

For a movie based on our life 

Weeks later you could read reviews

Of the film in the local paper

Of diminishing circulation

But you don’t have to.

It doesn’t matter what the experts think

We know what we like

4/20/26

poem

 Hernias

It was booked as a very straight forward repair

The hernia was of moderate size, maybe 

An hour of work patching it up, I told her.

But once inside I kept finding other holes

And in each of the holes there was something

Else hiding that shouldn’t have been there

Her inner shield pocked like a thin

Slice of swiss cheese 

Since I was there 

I didn’t want to leave any vulnerabilities 

Behind but the holes never seemed to end 

I lost track of time 

And forgot my own name.

After a while she had to get going,

Got married, moved on with her life,

Took a job in a different state with a plastics manufacturing plant

In the test lab but I kept toiling.

To this day I continue to keep watch

Probing her core for weak spots

Sealing all nascent gaps.

Nothing gets out 

I promised her that.

From the outside you’d think

She was perfectly fine

4/20/26

poem

 Dancing 

Dancing is the metaphor 

I know how important it is

I don't like watching it

I just like to do it

Sometimes I’m Jesus

When he returns to earth 

Unharmed and unscarred 

But only for a few seconds

I always lose the flow

And start to bleed out 

Every last drop 

Or else time flips 

Back and forth and I’m

A human baby again, uncertain

What to do with its body.

Everyone can sense it

Or it seems that way.

Maybe they don’t

Maybe I’m like Peleus

In the Pantheon suddenly 

Surrounded by throngs

Of writhing gods 

Oblivious to my presence.

So I go back to basics:

On-two, one-two, right foot, left foot

Rhythmically nodding yes yes yes 

Biting my lower lip

Slowly returning to the beat of my own life 

Next thing you know they’re

Playing my favorite song 

And I’m dancing for my wife 

4/20/26