Saturday, November 17, 2012

Static Touch

  regarding our connection
I love each byte of her
the tall ones and naughty naughts
how the static hums like her name
as if she is always there

I feel her heart beat
across electro neurons
wired minds wired
love in the digital age
our parents shaking their heads

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

In a small town the trick outweighs the treat

An empty cardboard box once filled with toilet paper,
an old football helmut, some aluminum foil,
a new can of silver spray paint, and an old pair of gloves

with a seven year old's hands and mind,
this would create my first costume,
a spaceman

and so I set out alone, away from my launching pad,
to explore my first frontier,
to mine rock candy from Mars and beyond

I hadn't planned on encounters with older kids,
asteroids who had even one year more to learn
how to ruin others' fun

at first, it was taunting words that dropped from the sky,
and my silver ray gun
would fend them off

but a pummeling of eggs, eggs, eggs
thrown from all sides, by cruel hands,
the running yolks dripping into tearing eyes

I was blocks away from where I knew
and where I knew I wasn't
I needed a home

I knocked on the door of the first I saw
and wailed into a stranger's arms
finding warmth and a kind towel

they opened doors back then
before the scare of razor blades in apples
dimmed in Milky Ways

in every town, a cup of cocoa and the voice of a mother
will quiet any nightmare, will dry young eyes,
and make the dress up fun again

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Our Democracy

our democracy ~ a one-vote winning margin ~ as good as we get

(With 21 OF 21 Precincts Counted, August 7, 2012)

STACEY NEWMAN (i) . . . . .  .1,823 50.01%
SUSAN CARLSON. . . . . . . . . 1,822 49.99%

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Like Ghadahfi

Like Qaddafi
some words should not be spelled
they should only be said
like a toy boat that keeps asking
where has Ben’s bin been
and the rage of jealous words

as my cat knows
it is not baby talk
it is my greeting
it is how I love him
it is how true friends
breathe the free air
of not having to spell
words of deep affection
like spelling an heirloom whistle

wudsy woo I love you
whoozy woo I love you
whuzey woo I love you

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Tanka Morning

when the sun peeps through
burns right into your dark eyes
screams a gift of life
shouts that warmth is possible
that you can have more of all

Sunday, May 6, 2012



I met a blind man on the trail
accompanied by two sighted friends
who offered to let me pass them by.
I elected to remain, standing,
almost alone, with my eyes closed,
and breathed in the first decaying scents
of the oncoming Fall and heard
the talking breeze that carried hawks
he had seen before me.

(photograph taken 9-30-11 at Castlewood State Park, St. Louis County, Missouri)