Three Poems

NO PICNIC

No picnic is an understatement
Nothing like tile for the tango

I wouldn’t want any of that
nobility to rub off on me

Life is such a funny time
Patios of people taking care
of unconjectured things

But always at night
the old world comes into its own
furnished with weather
in the darkling sky

Neighbors invariably enjoy
seeing through each other

Knowing and being
ok not knowing
What year adds that hat

Pictures of people thinking
Where the stars went to get off





DESPERATE REMEDIES

Sensations are the name
We give to changes in tissue
When we perceive them

This is your ass on grass
Flying from piano wires
Approximating space and time

Brains like to think
They are so complex
The universe gets embarrassed

Who cannot tell
When they are loved
Has never lived





LIVING DAYLIGHTS

.............-for Pam Osborn

Progress gets all the best history
Seeing us waving from such great heights
Of verbal economy as banh-mi for bon mot

Finding things so much more fulfilling
Than losing them the older you get
Or not depending on the thrilling confusion

I’m not what you think I am
I just try to be this way
Inhabiting hats to change eras

Words wear out over time
And it’s melancholy missing nightfall
For late naps or matinees

Things like me behave themselves
Don’t rise up and go haywire
Parade across the squeaky parquet

From silence to silence
Soft ethereal twinkling
Constituting an and in itself