
Profound formula
X-rays times Y-rays equal
Ludicrous thought rays

Profound formula
X-rays times Y-rays equal
Ludicrous thought rays

Pandora's Box was
hidden in a safe under
the base of the place
called Utopia; but still
it was found by the humans

I write small poems
While next to me on the couch
World's thrashing about
In night sweat terror detox
Reality withdrawal

It's the gardeners choice
On the type of garden grown
If peace or strife's sown

as the earth leans in
cry not for shrinking daylight
embrace the darkness

Geezer cynic shouts
"Let's get ready to grumble!"
Complaining ensues

grounded corporeal
vessel on shopping mall reef
of consumerism

I've noted that when
a conservative bangs on
about having skin
in the game it's always our
skin in their rigged corrupt game

Future blends with past
Appreciate the blurring
Moment by moment

my first full size bike
pieced together from spare parts
rolling chimera
a full sized Schwinn frame
spray painted sky blue, leopard
print banana seat
high rise handlebars
a big rear view mirror clamped on
for my first test ride
looking in mirror
and not where I was going
fell off, mirror broke

Mother was forty.
Father was fifty when I
was born. The caboose.
He worked on railroad.
All the livelong day. Math says
I was his present.
Gift given on his
fiftieth birthday. That was
my moms family joke.
Siblings said I was
left on doorstep by gypsies.
Children seen. Not heard.
Not the center of
anyone's universe then
Except for grandma
Mother went to work
At factory down the street
Never felt neglect
Nor did I feel poor
Hungarian grandmother
watched over me well.
Six of us lived in
Two bedroom home. One bathroom
One tub. No shower.
Time dragged at young age
Yet house cleared out soon enough
Siblings move on out.
Leaving me alone
Youngest still fifty years on
Still not seen or heard

mental cough known as
a scoff will expectorate
airborne balderdash

enormity is
established after two steps
off the bluff of time