Monday, November 24, 2014

Poem To Be Read At Jesse and Mikel's Wedding, November 22nd, 2014


Most days most people do some ordinary thing.
They attend school, or work, or spend it looking
at a television. It’s true: most days bring
with them not much worth remembering.
But today, my friends, is not one of those days,
for today is the day that generations will praise
as the day Jesse and Miki decided to walk through life’s maze
side by side, hand in hand, hearts ablaze.
Remember November twenty-second, two-thousand-and-fourteen.
Jesse, this was not a day you fixed somebody’s air conditioning,
and Miki, you didn’t manufacture a single movie screen.
Today was your wedding! What a happy, memorable scene!
Now, Jesse and Miki, go live a beautiful life.
Jesse, be a good husband, and Miki, be a good wife.
Have babies, and smile, bring to this world a little less strife.
Grow old. Grow wise. Escort each other to the afterlife.

The Butterfly Fairy Princess


Tenderly I see the Butterfly Fairy Princess
Going flap flap flap in the wind…
I witness her gather the precious, oozing honey
Ever-so-daintily from a periwinkle;
then from a daffodil, then from a tulip,
because all these flowers have honey in them…
She holds the honey in her fairy hands
letting some drip-drip-drop into the open mouths…
of three precious baby centipedes,
each the color of sparkly mauve lipstick,
and the centipedes hug each other, and cry,
all because of love, all because of magic,
all because the Butterfly Fairy Princess
is also a Butterfly Fairy Princess Love Magician…
Then the Butterfly Princess flies above the sunny field
filled with a rainbow of all-green plants,
and the moon glows like a glow-in-the-dark sticker…
The Butterfly Fairy Princess ever-s0-gently
flaps her wings and flies, transporting the honey
back to her other butterfly friends, named Tammy
and Tiffany and Piper and Jane and Joy,
and they eat the sumptuous snack with
smacking smiling lips and happy flapping wings…

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Homebody

I don’t want to go to Rome,
or Australia, or even Tennessee.
I have work to do right here at home
and that’s all right with me.


I want to sit in my same old chair,
lie down in my same old bed,
stay on the porch and stare
as the sunset turns the sky red.

Go without me, Betsy. I’ll help pack!
Have fun, mail a postcard or two,
and whenever you get back,

I’ll fix some venison stew.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Right Now

I'm sitting in a car
somebody else is driving
heading someplace 
I don’t wanna go 
to work at a job 
I don’t wanna do
for eight hours,
maybe nine,
maybe ten,
and I forgot 
to pack a lunch.

And all I really want
to do is sit down 
in some restaurant
that never closes,
and they bring me
eggs, bacon, toast,
orange juice, hash browns,
pancakes, butter, syrup,
whatever I want,
and somebody else 
pays for all of it

and there's a stage
in that restaurant
where some women
play the guitar, 
dance around,
and sing.

They’re beautiful,
and so close to me 
that I’m nervous, 
but they keep on 
singing songs about love
and the stars and Jesus
and whatever they want 
until I feel just fine
for a long, long time.

I’m full,
and sleepy.

I go home,
bring the blanket
to my chin,
and fall asleep.