Sunday, July 5, 2020


The fertile compost between my ears admits many worms
And while each of them sings a jaunty tune
No two have hit upon the same song
And finding a single melody to follow amid the tumult
Would take a bigger shovel than I have ready to hand

Saturday, July 4, 2020


The fireworks may still go off
With fewer there to see them,
And cookouts still the backyards fill
With fewer to glee in them,
And grumblings about the lacks
Will doubtless proceed from them
As, in this year, the pushed-off fear
May well soon have undone them.

Friday, July 3, 2020


Avert, again, your eyes from me,
O, Stupid God, and do not see
Where I go and what I do!
It is my only prayer to you,
That you never will me bless;
I do not need to feel that cess.

Thursday, July 2, 2020


Sometimes I think I should in worship fall
Towards which me the Stupid God does call
And join the throngs that lie within its thrall,
For I am not less angry than they are,
And they than me seem happier by far.
If I would join them, I would face no bar,
But would be celebrated for a time
As I became complicit in each crime
They do against good sense and the sublime--
Which they will claim to praise as they abjure
What they mistakenly believe impure,
And in those wrong beliefs, they are too sure.
But in such cause, I cannot take a knee.
Too many praise the Stupid God; not me.

Wednesday, July 1, 2020


A number of years ago today--
And just how many, I'll not say--
She left the room where she first lay,
And I am glad she did,
For had she not come out from there,
I'd not have met her, come to care
For her as I intend to e'er--
And, no, I do not kid.

Happy birthday to my beloved wife!

Tuesday, June 30, 2020


Sometimes it seems the only color I can see is red
Whether because the haze has descended again
Or that is the color of the lights that shine for me
And I will not say such have no place
But I miss the broader spectrum
Wish I could see the rainbow again

Monday, June 29, 2020


I did not expect to enjoy the bratwurst so much
Though I confess
I gagged a bit when the greasy spray
Hit the back of my throat
I swallowed it down
And the rest of the meat followed it

Sunday, June 28, 2020


Life imitates art
A saying said many times
Passing all seasons
Mackay makes a claim of art
Wherein do we mimic it?

Saturday, June 27, 2020


Lowering ceiling
Darkening over stained walls
Their brown trim greening
How long will the summer sun
Take to strip that color off?

Friday, June 26, 2020


Excited as Aestas approaches
Ouranos cannot hold back
Spraying what he has had mounting up
Over Gaea's hills and valleys
And she does not seem to mind his excitement
At another form than hers as she moves under him