The
BULKY fellow on the
CELLO is something of a
FIEND when he ruins the end of the serene piece with a loudly vocal
WHOOP!
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In Behemoth’s Shadow
TIGHT fit in sound as cruise ships pass
ISLET’s small plot, once content in smallness, now in behemoth’s shadow,
AGONY of lost proportion, no size makes sense,
BASTEd by artificial swells and diesel fumes.
Yo Yo’s Revenge
WHOOP it up, Yo Yo! Those hours with
CELLO: bearing lifetime’s fruit of beauty.
FIENDs did scoff at child hauling
BULKY case-each note now bids them shush.
Baler
A hay
BALER’s an amazing machine, it
AMAZEs me how spicy it feels to watch it
SEGUE cut or raked crops into block bales;
SPICY the zing that lightnings down my spine.
I Dance In My Imagination
BALER: almost Spanish for dance, evokes kinesis which
AMAZEs; body become poem in space and time,
SPICY every step, nothing bland, all fluid motion,
SEGUE now to me on couch, tired, shlubby–aging as I write this.
Humility
Today I saw a golfer tear a STRIP
off his placid, always pleasant CADDY.
Not an inch did the guy BUDGE;
just took it on his manly SHOALders.
Bask
CADDY wheezes to a stop on crest of hill, disembarks a picnic.
SHOALs spread out beyond, rippled by spring wind.
BUDGEt has cratered, car is dying, family’s fortunes
STRIPped; they can yet bask in view and sun.
Lack of history
ROUGH-voiced he said, ‘I’ll stand in your
STEAD.’ He took the brunt of their abuse,
STOKEd by ideological fires, by those who stand
APART from history and from plain good sense.
We Admit Not Impediment
STOKE the embers, coax the flame,
APART we be, but not in thought,
STEAD of ours shall not admit impediment,
ROUGH life’s waves will yet be shamed to calm by love.
Vapid
GLADE is the name of an air freshener.
CRICK in my scent nerves when fresheners used;
MANLY my scent nerves; air freshener vapid, like
PENNE pasta eaten with a sauce that soaks it.