"The Childe...More restless than the swallow in the skies..." -Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Friday, October 20, 2017

Poem: A Latte for Dinner



I’m having a latte for dinner. It’s Friday night—laps the rocks—in Slightville, Michigan. People are praising warm weather in October. Outskirts people are—laps the rocks—grilling out. Downtown ladies are clubbing in skimpy clothes one more time. Beating the odds, I—laps the rocks—made it to the coffeeshop on TGIF fumes. At the table near the outlet, my smart phone uploads the clip from last month’s road trip up north. The greatest lake becomes narrow when seen from the dulling capstone over my fat waist. It’s a clip to help me always remember my toes have never been lonely and like to swim. In the coffeeshop now a bluesy guitarist sings, “I don’t need no woman like that.” I devoutly mistakenly deem the tune pure and take it—laps the rocks—to heart. When life feels like it’s lost its rhythm, go out for some live music; watch the harmonica play—laps the rocks—er stand winded like a sprinter at the end of a dash; try and be grateful you—laps the rocks—still have breaths left. And have a latte for dinner.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

A Quatrain for Blade Runner 2049



A fine flick if you ask me, but you didn’t.
They’ve deemed this gem a flop; for $30 mill—
a paltry opening weekend take for sure—
fails to cover the makers’ green-lit bill

Friday, September 8, 2017

Mighty Wolves' Haiku

Hellhounds in slumber,
Vying for their master’s lap,
Dream teeth dripping blood.