I want to be a person of principle

I want to be a person of principle

but, sometimes, I’m not sure what

those principals should be. Am I

supposed to look out for you, or

am supposed to look out for me?

Inside again

Inside again

I'm a charmer.
I put out my own light.

The devil has made a fool out of me, again.

The devil has made a fool out of me, again.

The devil has made a liar out of me, again;

seems I’ve got no control and the good Lord

has let me go. I can’t remember having so

much trouble breathing. It feels like my heart

is going to let go. The devil has had his way

with me again, and seems like there was nothing

I could do. Cappuccino breakfast can’t save me.

All these diamonds and gold can’t make the devil

go away. Where is the Lord when I need him. I

should have reached out to him before I went down

the path to the devil.

What's more important?

What's more important?

What's more important,
folding your laundry,
or writing some poems?

What's more important,
walking the dogs,
or buying your lady
a flower?

Who's more important,
you or me?

What's better,
war or peace?

Would you rather walk
or drive,

hit a homerun or strikeout?

What's the best way
to end a war,
nuclear bomb or peace treaty?

Is there a better way
that you could have
spent your time, instead of
reading this poem?

An unnerving experience

An unnerving experience

When I got home
from where I was,
yesterday

there were five or
six large black crows
on our front yard.

Black crows intrigue
me, but not in such
numbers. I have to
admit that I was a
bit scared to see these
birds in such number
so close.

They were eating
fake corn that I had
put out for the squirrels
trying to keep them
away from the bird
feeders.

Fat. Fat. Fat.

Fat. Fat. Fat.

It's fucking time
to go to bed, again.

Another day over,
another day sober.

Thanks to the man
who the atheist doesn't
believe is up above.

Maybe he's down below.
Maybe he is a she.
Maybe he is a drag queen.

Maybe if I stare at my bicycle
long enough, I'll get my fat ass
on it and ride it.

Well, it's not my ass that's fat.
The Doctor says that fats stored
in the belly are the worst ones
for driving a diabetics sugar count
through the ceiling.

I have a big belly.

I'm feeling good. If I don't look
in the mirror, I won't feel fat.
I'm not alone; being fat that is.
Are you fat?

This guy on the sidewalk once got
mad at me, and all he could scream
at me was that I was, "fat, fat, fat."

I didn't really understand him.
I was skinny as a kid; and he
wasn't telling me anything that
I don't know every time I brush
my teeth.

Fat. Fat. Fat.

Dream On No Matter What

Dream On No Matter What

Dream your dream
feel what you feel
even when you sell

your soul

to the company store.

On the wrong two feet?

On the wrong two feet?

Mostly, the people who say

that, they are "keeping it real,"
are not keeping it real.

Mostly, the people who say

that they won't steal from you,
will steal you blind.

Mostly, the people who say

that they aren't interested in money,
crave money.

Am I starting with an attitude

of negativity, this morning?


Well, let me say then that when

my children say that they love me,
they love me.

Don't bend me over

Don't bend me over

Slap me in the face,
so that I feel part of
the human race.

Nobody owes you
something, just because
you are here, but
they shouldn't be
able to do you in the
rear, neither, if'n that
is, you don't want it
up the butt.

You can't piss on the grill, Morisson

You can't piss on the grill, Morisson

They've been driving the space shuttle drunk,
which should come as no surprise.
Why should astronauts be any different

than the rest of us?

A new study says that pot is bad for you.
Do you think that pot smokers will now

stop smoking it?

The turtles, the cats and the dogs
have all been fed, this morning;
Morisson took his morning piss
on the cover of the grill and got scolded.

We're down to one goldfish in the turtles' home.
We started with three.

Don't bring me your rules and regulations

Don't bring me your rules and regulations

Because someone says
that it is so, does not mean
that it is so.

I have met people who know
all the "rules" of poetry, but
they couldn't write a decent
poem if mine or your life depended
on it, which is a scary situation.

This is why so many people
hate poetry; because there
are so many boring "poets"
out there,

but by all means, write, if you
must or want to, just don't
bring me your rules and regulations.

If my head is doing well then I’ve got it made

If my head is doing well then I’ve got it made

I can't sit outside your window
and not knock on your door.

I can't be down and out
and say that I've got it made.

I heard a song from yesterday,
it made me wonder
what you'd be doing tomorrow.

I can't blame somebody else
for the things that I have done.

I can't drink for thirty years
and not work much, then sober
up and point a finger at you
because you went in to work
every day and you have things
that I want, but I can't get them
right away.

Life is unfair, but I don't care.
If my head is doing well, then
I've got it made.

Should I Try To Remain?

Should I Try To Remain?

If I strike this posture
will I be an impostor,

but what if assuming
this position is good
for me,

though it goes against
everything that I've
ever thought is true,

blue

I am trying to figure
it out. What I was,
and what I wanted
yesterday,

is not what I am
and is not
what I want now.

Should I try to remain
twelve
eighteen
twenty-seven
thirty-four?

I wore diapers
when I was born,
and I may be
wearing them
as I die,

but I don't want
to wear them
right now.

Fib

Fib

I need some inspiration
Because I have no imagination
Now that's just not true of me.

Not televised

Not televised

Revolutionaries trying to change the planet
don't sell Amway. They don t go door to door

with vacuum cleaners, either

Just one thing

Just one thing

It might be one of those
dragging ass days, where
diabetes, or sleep apnea,
or too much coffee too
close to bed, or just plain
old fashioned laziness

is contributing to me

not feeling real motivated.
so far today.
I am getting things done,
just not the one thing that
I have been put on the
planet earth to do: write.

Pills are the easy way out

Pills are the easy way out

Pills are the easy way out,
so much easier than diet
and exercise.

I'm looking at a picture
of my little girl, she was
only three then, and she
was crying. She's thirteen
now, and I bet that she
would never let me see
her cry now.

Pills are the easy way out,
so much easier than diet
and exercise.

My youngest boy
is now a man,
but he's not all grown up
at eighteen; none of us
were, though I thought
that I was. I'm glad that
my son hasn't run away
from his family, like I did.


Pills are the easy way out,
so much easier than diet
and exercise.

The oldest boy was five
when I met him, he taught
me how to be his friend.
He calls me step-dad, but
more importantly, he calls
me quite often on the telephone,
and that is what really matters
to me.


Pills are the easy way out,
so much easier than diet
and exercise.

I have so much to live for.
I have so much to live for.


Pills are the easy way out,
so much easier than diet
and exercise.

Re-think it.
Re-thing it.
Change the channel.
Program change.
Program change.

I can't die

I can't die

I just stood in front of the TV
and learned a Yoga pose. It
was really weird standing
there in front of this lady
who kind of doesn't exist. I
felt like she was getting into
my mind and re-programming
me.

I need to be reprogrammed.

I had a physical, yesterday,
and my Doctor said that I now
have a high risk of heart attack.
She said that my cholesterol
was through the sky,

and prescribed a med for it.

Another  fucking med; geez.

I need to lose weight.
I'm a fat old man;

I really am. I would rather
eat than exercise; I really
would, but I would rather
live than die; I really would.
I've got those grandkids to
check out, books to write,
love to give, love to get.

I can't die.

But I don t feel like being cynical tonight


I really should be doing something more
constructive than this,

I could be a lawyer charging a kid with
a dui fifteen hundred bucks to enter a
plea for him of no lo, not telling him that
he could easily make that plea himself
and not be screwed out of cash jack.

I could keep on getting cynical here
telling you how life sucks because
everybody is just out to make a dollar
off your ass, son

or daughter.

But, I don't feel like being cynical tonight.

Who would have ever imagined?

Who would have ever imagined?

I've quit beating up
on me.

And,

I've quit beating up
on you.

I've slipped off to
that place where
those who survive
insanity live out
their last days,

calmly,
peacefully.

That's me walking the dogs.
That's me washing the cars.
That's me cutting the lawn.

Who would have ever imagined?

Why does your voice still ring in my ears, sometimes?

Why does your voice still ring in my ears, sometimes?

I've learned how to grill.

You turn the thing in the

back of the grill on; propane

is it that the thing holds?

Then you turn the three

knobs in the front of the grill

on. You shoot for 350 degrees

before you lay your non-PETA

approved meat on the metal.

You turn your food once or twice,

and soon you have it; grilled

chicken, hot dogs, steak, hamburgers,

shrimp; whatever your little heart

and stomach desires.

I was always scared of grilling;

I didn't think that I could do it.

It's probably my father's fault;

he always said that I didn't measure up.

Well, Fuck You Dad, I grilled some

killer chicken thighs, tonight, and

some really tasty hot dogs. Too bad

you weren't here to have one. Too

bad you passed away about two

decades ago.

Why does your voice still ring

in my ears, sometimes?

A pit of man-eating something

A pit of man-eating something

Walking away, it was pitch dark;

without the flashlight that I carried,

the dog and I might have fallen

into a pit of man-eating something.

On the way back,

a near half-full moon

illuminated the walk.

The cars that passed us were criminal;

the speed that they passed us by going

at was dangerous to them, and dangerous

to us.

I hadn't walked in awhile.

I wore the wrong shoes.

The dog had fun, though;

he always has fun on walks.

I'm having two hotdogs

I'm having two hot dogs from The QT that are
loaded with onions and pico de gal, a sausage
in bun, a chocolate and a vanilla donut for dinner.

Joan has deserted me for the theatre...

The battery is charged up, but

The battery is charged up, but

There is no one to call,
no one at all;
They are all sleeping,
or keeping to themselves.

football gibberish

If they say, "He used to be a linebacker,"

to describe him, what would they be telling you?

……………………………………

The guys on the radio are saying that Alabama and Oregon

will be the two teams fighting each other for The National

Championship. They are saying FSU won't make it in. Well,

that's fucked.

That's punk rock

That’s punk rock

The label tried to get them

to be other than they were

so they broke up.

At Worst Buy

I was at Worst Buy, the other day, and they had these receptacles in the front that you could recycle things in. One sign said cell phones, but the one that I paid attention to said, “Rechargable Batteries.” I wonder what they would do if I, and others, put non-rechargable  batteries in there with the rechargable ones. Would they pollute the earth with those batteries, or find a peaceful solution where they would dispose of all of the batters in a timely, and safe, manner. What do you do with your batteries. Dead batteris are a pain in the ass, and so too were The Dead Kennedys.

How does Neil Young dispose of his trash?

How does Neil Young dispose of his trash?

How does Neil Young dispose of his trash;

with all that cash, is he better than me

to the environment?

I feel guilty every time I take another plastic bag,

full of my garbage, out the door,

but I don't know how to stop creating more trash.

Maybe if I had the cash,

I could save the planet

damn it, Al Gore and me

could be significant, if only

Neil Young would tell me

how to take out the trash,

when you're down on cash.

Throw a loser drowning a cement life preserver

Throw a loser drowning a cement life preserver

How can you break someone whose

already bent like a twig trying to stay

together at the hands of a man who

needs a toothpick?

Refugee

Refugee

I will never tango, but hopefully
I'll never find myself blacked out
in a drunk tank.

The Law

The Law

They have closed off

the on and off ramps

to my city. I have

been instructed to

hide in the bathroom,

if necessary.

Has martial law been

decried in the USA?

No.

There may be a tornado

headed my way.

Doggie Wants A Pill

Doggie Wants A Pill

Since I have been taking these pain pills

for my gums, since I had surgery on

them, last week, the dogs have been

coming to me when I open the container

that contains my pills.

This is because they associate

my pill container and the way I shake it,

with the older dog's pill container,

and the way that I shake it,

when I am getting ready to give

the old dog his pills.

Cosmic Punk goes to Iraq

Cosmic Punk goes to Iraq

This guy I know

is headed to Iraq.

He is real happy

to be going there

he tells me because.

he believes greatly

in freedom.

I knew this man

as a long-haired

lead singer of a wild

rock and roll band.

It is a remarkable

transformation, that

I am witnessing.

I wish that there were

no wars, no need for

soldiers, but if every

soldier had this man’s

heart and soul there

would be less wars.

And that would be a

good thing. Pray for

my soldier friend,

won't you.

A good sign

A good sign

She wants to kill herself,

and I want the ac turned down.

She had fried chicken for lunch.

For lunch, I had meatloaf.

I've had meatloaf two days

in a row, now, because it is

about the only thing that I

can chew on after having

oral surgery last week.

 I've been where she's at, before,

both with the fried chicken,

for lunch, part of it, and with the

wanting to kill yourself part of it.

She has done the right thing, though,

like I did the right thing about depression

that ignores the pills that are being fed to

it. She called the Doctor, went to see him,

and he has set her up with an immediate

appointment to see the Psychiatrist.

I ask her if I can have her banana pudding.

She says, "no," and I figure that is a good sign.

Caveat Emptor

Everybody's out to

make a buck;

I just want to not be

down on my luck.

They sell you dog shit

and tell you that your

dog will love it,

and they charge you

more than you can

really pay.

Everybody's out to

make a buck,

I just want to be not

down on my luck.

If you told them to go to AA they would laugh at you

If you told them to go to AA they would laugh at you

Desperate alcoholics gather, near a street corner,

waiting, with their hands out; they've found

a sympathetic store owner, and they gather

like trout do at that place in the river where

you can buy food to throw to the fish.

Leerily, the unshaven men look at you,

as you pass them by, sizing you up.

What can they take you for?

What is your obligation, if any, to these men

who would rather drink mouth wash in the park

than seek assistance for their addiction?

At night, they break into cars; they hold people up,

anything to feed their need. Should you make

their lifestyle easier on them? Are you helping

them out by handing them a dollar, or are you

hooking them up to fall further into the abyss that

they have created for themselves?

Sure, heredity is a factor in their affliction;

they have a disease, but when you cut your hand

wide open with a knife, don't you seek out

someone who can seal the wound?

Want

Want

He asked for nothing,

which made me want

to give him something.

I’ll take a hot dog with chili and coleslaw please

I’ll take a hot dog with chili and coleslaw please

I'm no social crusader.

I suck on Starbucks,

I seek discounts at Wal-Mart,

I drink bottled water,

from plastic containers.

I eat meat,

and I wear a leather jacket.

I guess that the people at

PETA are perfect; they point

their finger at most of us,

saying that we are not good

enough, that we are not as

good as them.

I'm not sure what else to say.

Jerry Falwell used to say that

I should live his way, too.

Ah to be so young and pretty

Ah to be so young and pretty

He looked at me as if I had

just stumbled in from the soup line

and into the coffee shop

where he worked behind

the counter. He was young

and gay and had no use for

an old man like me. I ordered

a coffee and he took the money

from my hand and gave both

the money and my hand a look

as if we were both diseased.

What next will you do?

What next you will do?

Have you ever had long fingernails,

but you didn't want to cut them

because you knew that any day now

you were going to get a manicure?

Have you ever not shaved,

because you knew that you

were going to go to the barber,

but you never got around to

going to the barber and

your beard just kept getting

longer and longer?

Have you ever driven along

the highway and seen someone

pulled over, broken down, and

wondered if you stopped to

help them would they kill you?

Have you failed to ask questions

that you should have asked,

ignored signs that you should have

observed?

Everyone needs love

Everyone needs love

No one needs a fist to the jaw.

No one needs bills they can’t pay.

No one needs a car that breaks down.

No one needs a kick to the knee.

No one needs ants in the kitchen.

No one needs wasps on the porch.

Everyone needs love.

Everyone needs love.

No one needs their team to lose.

No one needs to blackout on booze.

No one needs a hurricane.

No one needs a tornado.

No one needs a fire.

No one needs their lover to be a liar.

Everyone needs love.

No one needs a parking ticket.

No one needs a cop to catch you speeding.

No one needs a drive by shooting.

No one needs a home invasion.

No one needs to be carjacked.

Everyone needs love.

No one needs a heart attack.

No one needs live damage.

No one needs cancer.

No one needs diabetes.

Everyone needs love.

No one needs aids.

No one needs mental illness.

No one needs traffic.

No one needs dandruff.

Everyone needs love.

Mass Insanity

Mass Insanity

Shootings in schools, at airports, at malls

are things we are having to live with, these days.

They are a sign of our times. I’ve heard some

say that The Government is behind the shooting,

that they want to take away our freedom by

scaring us, and taking away our right to bear arms.

I’ve heard that each individual who takes the life

of others in such a manner is, somehow, insane.

We eat our frosted flakes in the morning and watch

as the newest explosion of insanity spills out in

front of us on the cable television. It has become

normal to live with these events. When they happen,

we are not surprised, just curious about who the killer

was and if there is an motivation to his actions that

we can learn about. Will there ever be an end to such

events? No.

Momentary Vulgar

Momentary Vulgar

In a bad moment
I cussed in front
of the priest. He 
said he wouldn’t
forgive me, that
I was going to Hell.

In a bad moment
I cussed in front
of the policeman.
He said I was going
to jail. Oh well.

In a bad moment
I cussed in front
of the judge. He
slammed the gavel
down.

I was gone for
several years
and the first thing
that I said when
I got out was
“Fuck yeah.”

Armageddon

Armageddon

He had ten thousand cans of baked beans

and a loaded 45 in the closet and told

his wife that they were ready for the end

of the world. He took all his money out

of the bank and hid it under the mattress.

He paid up the newspaper subscription

for several years because he wanted to be

informed of what was going on while things

were going down. He had a multitude of

copies of his favorite movies stashed by the

TV in the living room. He put up a fence

around the yard and bought a couple of

Dobermans. He had his eye on an AK 47

and planned to place lots of ammo for his

guns in the house. He subscribed to Warrior

Magazine. He bought Army fatigues. He

stopped paying  his credit cards. He was

ready for the end.

This is the madhouse

This is the madhouse

and I’m confined within

its puke green painted walls.

This is the drunk tank

watch me fall onto the

hard concrete floor and sleep

covered in puke and blood

until the jailer calls me

to come meet the judge.

This is the bar

looking at me forgetting

what I said when I was

locked up.

Some old writing

Some old writing

Some old writing that I just

brought up from a bin in the basement

reminded me of the time

when I lit a piece of paper

that I was typing on on fire

and watched the flames leap

up the curtain  in front of me.

I sat there in a catatonic state,

a zombie to the whole situation.

After she put out the fire,

my girlfriend didn’t know what

to do with me. She made a bunch

of phone calls and they said

take him to the mental institution.

It was about five days before

I figured out who I was

and who everybody else was

like The President, who the folks

at the loony bin seemed to think

it was important for me to know.

This was in the mid-eighties when

I was doing a fair amount of LSD

and drinking copious amounts of liquor

The doors of perception that

60’s gurus predicted would open

for me if I did hallucinogens

had quite the opposite effect on me.

A best friend's empathy

A best friend’s empathy

My dog, Morisson, looks up at me

sympathetically seeming to know

that I am in pain as I scratch the

psoriasis on my right hand.  He

cannot alleviate the discomfort

that I am feeling, but it is heartwarming

that he acknowledges what I am

going through.

Sociopathic imbeciles fueled by Budweiser

Sociopathic imbeciles fueled by Budweiser,

and their team’s World Series victory, torch

cars and buildings in a public display of what?

The city in question, Boston, was hit by terrorists

just months ago. Why do Red Sox fans act like

terrorists themselves then? Certain things are

incomprehensible to me, and this is one of them.

Yeah, Red Sox, but boo, to the Red Sox fans who

took to the streets with Bic lighters and destruction

in their hearts as a means of “celebration.”

It's very tit for tat

It’s very tit for tat

helps me know

where I’m at.

Gimmee some perspective

Gimmee some perspective

Are you speaking from
a first person perspective
or a third person perspective.

though I had nothing

Though I had nothing

I would have paid anything
to get with you, 
but you said that you didn’t
want money, and you showed me
your bird seed.

Heartache is hard

Heartache is hard

Heartache is hard.
Heartache is mine.
Heartache kicks me
in the balls all the time.
When listening to Chris Knight 
lines that are alien to my existence
come to mind and wind up
on this page. It's been a long time
since my heart was broken. It's
been a long time since I've shook
my hands in fists of rage at the moon.

I'm underneath the bottle

I’m underneath the bottle,

and, once again, it has put me

behind the bars. I started out

wanting to be a Superstar,

now I’m strung out, here, on Mars.

I'm waiting for my man

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

I’m waiting for my man.

A little inspiration

A little inspiration

When you’re looking for a little inspiration

where do you look? Do you look in your momma’s

cookie jar where she used to hide bus fare that you

took and bought warm beers from the boy down

the road? Do you look in the school book that you

used to like to read, though you were no good at

passing tests on what you had read? Do you look

at the map on the wall that you kept so you could

see all the places that you wanted to go? Where do

you look for a little inspiration?

Bigger Markets

Bigger Markets

If you’d been in a bigger market

you would have been bigger,

would have got your picture

on the cover of The Stoned Roller,

would have played Thursday Night Live.

But you weren’t, you were a big fish

in a small pool, and those much smaller

than you got big because of where they lived.

If you could write a poem

If you could write a poem

If you could write a poem

that would make all the world’s ills go away

how long would it take you to write it?

If you have that poem in you, why fight it?

Jot it down and release it.

Do it now. Do it right away.

Write that poem that will chase

all the world’s blues away.

It’s probably not possible, but why not try?

RIP Lou Reed

I am playing some Lou Reed, right now.
I think that it should be a rule that we
play some Lou Reed every day just so we
never forget him.

The same is just the past repeated

The same is just the past repeated

Have you ever gone for the jugular and failed;
found yourself face down getting stomped?

One of the greatest tastes in the world

One of the greatest tastes in the world

is the taste of an Air Head candy in your

mouth. There is nothing like it. It is a 

marvelous experience. This is not an 

endorsement by the sales staff, it is a

happy review of a wonderful tasting candy.

Live

Live

Swarm.

Burrow.

Migrate.

Infest.
Digest.

Ingrate.

Saliva.

Sweat.

Blood.

Water.

Minerals.

Aspirin.

Fire.

Tears.

Smile
Yes.
No..

Frown.

Die.

Live.

Dig deep

You got to pay the fare

otherwise you risk arrest

going here from there.

Hothead on the internet

Hothead on the internet

Have you ever known a person

who is nice in person, but is a

hothead on the internet? Their

personality completely changes

once they get their fingers on the

keyboards; points of view that you

never knew they had come rushing

to the forefront like a brick would

thrown at your face by an adversary.

They are very self-righteous about

their attitudes. Everyone is wrong

but  them. We are a bunch of losers

and they are the only winner at this

thing called the game of life. They

won’t go away either forcing you to

use the block button to get rid of them.

Disappointment and sorrow

Disappointment and sorrow

I had cracked two eggs and started melting
a thing of butter in the microwave. The oven was warming,
and then I realized that I had no bananas
and, thus, could not bake a banana bread for
my love.

Submission

If a publications says that they get 50,000 submissions a year and only print three poems an issue, I’m probably going to pass on licking a stamp and placing it on an envelope filled with my poems to send to them. I mean I think that many of my poems are good, but getting them in this sort of a publication is, to my way of thinking, like trying to win the lottery buying one ticket a week.

Pleasure

Pleasure

Mr. Turtle, George, had spent a few days

under his rock and I was starting to get worried

that he was sick, but this morning, he is gleefully

swimming the length of his aquarium, end to end,

he goes, as if he is making progress, which pleases me.

The first time I was arrested

The first time that I was arrested

I was of age to drink having a beer

at a party and a cop pulled up and

said, “Come here, boys,” to me and

two friends. The one “friend” dropped

his beer as he walked with us towards

the cop without warning us to do

the same, so the cop busted us for

Public Consumption of Alcohol.

My jail stay was short as my father

showed up and bailed me out, something

that he had sworn for years that he

would never do. I should have learned

some sort of lesson here, but I didn’t

and I continued drinking until I was 34

with many other arrests along the way

related to me and my drinking. 

I'm thinking about what to do

I’m thinking about what to do

now that I have had my coffee.

What I feel like doing is going

back to bed, but I probably won’t.

I will probably do what I usually

do in the morning: write poems.

Look how that turned out

I am not a handy person of any sort

but my love is, so I call upon her

to drive the nails, and unscrew the screws.

My father was handy, but he did not want

me to work with my hands, he wanted me

to work with my head, so he taught me

that I could not work with my hands. Often

you turn out to be what you are told

you will be by your parents. Sometimes,

though, you overcome these negative voices,

so I am sure that one day I will become

proficient with a hammer, and a screwdriver

because I will say yes I can to the voices

in my head that are saying no you can’t.

Businessmen and husbands

Businessmen and husbands

We used to go to Old Saybrook

for a week in the summer, as kids

with our parents. One summer

my dad let my turtle go, because

he said that I was not taking care

of  it. I think that he was full of shit

and just didn’t want the turtle in

his house. There were always kids

at the pier, on the beach, cruel kids,

who would hang string attached to

bait into the water to catch crabs.

They would then pull the legs off

of the crabs and burn their bodies

by holding a magnifying glass to

the poor things. Can you imagine

what type of businessmen and

husbands these kids turned out to be?

Politically correct

Politically correct

“Good Morning,” says the bird

as I lift the sheet off of her cage

that I cover her dwelling with

each night before I go to bed.

“Give me a kiss,” she adds and

then she clucks a few times as

if to imitate kisses. She then

says, “Good Morning,” for the

rest of the day. We are working

on teaching her, “Good afternoon,”

and “Good evening.” We do want

her to be politically correct.

I start my day with coffee

I start my day with coffee

a cup or two, not the nearly

whole pot that I used to drink.

Coffee can make you tense

I have learned the hard way

and I prefer for my days to

be pleasant.

Practice doesn’t always mean perfection

Practice doesn’t always mean perfection

My dad bought me a 99 cent basketball

from a bin at the grocery store when I

was eleven years old. I wore that ball out that summer

on the basketball court behind the public school

that I was to attend that fall after having spent

grades one through five at a Catholic school.

The ball wasn’t a real basketball;

I soon realized that plastic is not what

all the other kids were playing with.

Eventually, I got a real basketball and

got to play on a team of eleven and twelve

year old kids. We won the league championship

my first year on the team, and came in second

the next year. I was a starter on the runner up

team, the leading scorer. To get to that point

I had spent umpteen hours shooting a basketball

through a hoop. I even talked my dad into putting

up a hoop in our driveway, something that he later

said he came to regret because I used it so frequently

and the noise of the ball on the concrete and the noise

of the ball hitting the backboard ruined the tranquility

that he was seeking at that time in his life. I played

basketball through my senior year in high school.

I was too greedy of a player to really be of any value

to anyone by that time. I wanted the ball every time.

I wanted to score the most points. When I was on

the results were good, but when I was off it was ridiculous

how many shots I took and missed. Practice doesn’t

always mean perfection.

I've never lived with a bird

I’ve never lived with a bird

I’ve lived with my mother

and father and brother in a house

in the burbs.

I’ve lived with women in sin as some say.

I’ve lived with dogs, cats, turtles, fish, and a frog,

but I’ve never lived with a  bird.

I’ve lived with diabetes, with being a drunk

who hasn’t had a drink in a long while,

with dandruff, bad breath, and broke.

But I’ve never lived with a bird.