If I were the Pussycatand Hewereme, I wonder exactlyhow thatwouldbe. I might sit,contented,my own simple businessto mind and,suddenly,find my whole self lifted in air,to be cheek by jowland ear pressed to ear. I’d struggle,push, lean,and rathernot be there but I’d have nothing to fear. All powerful,the Pussycat’dhave no reason to be mean, I’d feel lovedandContinue reading “Me, Pussycat, God”
Tag Archives: Life
Fred Sits Down
Fred feels thoughtful – says to the waiter,“I’m but a short while here. Your warmth and sun againstmy precious wind and bitterdo battle,deconstructing as they’re able,the space I live within,where I clutch at old things, familiar and dear. You offer me slowed moments,an island vacation,a time to set aside the immediateof past and future busyness,aContinue reading “Fred Sits Down”
A Clockwork
Who sips,when droughtis done and cups are fullagain?Even childbirth lies forgottenatthe scent of summer’slilacdrifting in. Bury both lips deepand soon as you can.Ignore what dribblesdown the chin,it isn’t wasted. Sky, in metered time,revisits trembling blue.What spills from thisand sunlight’s offeringis tastedby earth anew.
Where Did It Come From,Why Is It Here,Where Will It Go
The great river is alluring chance,it’s old, graveled edgean over-one-shoulderseductive glance.I am teased to wanting for sunny days and bright sandthat some folk say, “lies further south, around a bend, where each may go one day.” Hushed rushing quickens the hour. I fear inertia’s awful powerto draw this weak swimmer, unready,from the sheltering, familiar eddys. Through western history,the same books boreContinue reading “Where Did It Come From,Why Is It Here,Where Will It Go”
Sunday, At Church
It is raining.Tiny brown/grey birds(I believe they are sparrows)huddle under eaves next door.A dirty and thirsty one hop/flies upfor a drink and quick bath atthe metal trough above him/her whilethe rest stare into a slanted downpour,perhaps thinking private thoughts.They are waiting for the rain to stop,possibly chatting with each otherin the way that birds mustContinue reading “Sunday, At Church”
Robert On The Air 