Important Business Meeting

What Jerry Experienced

Pablo and Sonia were exploring the idea of opening a bed and breakfast,

Coupled with a Vegan restaurant.

We were heavily into the discussion.

I was feeling it.

Facing them across my kitchen table,

Pointing out the need for a detailed projection,

A capital cost analysis,

And a marketing study.

I looked into the eyes of my friends.

Both wore serious frowns.

My probing questions had gained a foothold.

I needed to take care not to discourage them.

Unless the answers, when carefully arrived at,

Spelled an unacceptable level of risk

Relative to the potential emotional and financial gain. 

Their faces were showing the strain. They understood.

What Pablo and Sonia Experienced.

Fred & Wilma were on Jerry’s bed,

15 feet away and very visible over Jerry’s shoulder.

Both dogs knew the house

And were having a great time play-fighting.

Jerry pressed his concerns.

He was being very serious.

(Fred and Wilma were each claiming the same pillow.)

We strained not to explode with laughter.

Desperate not to look at the dogs,

We stared at Jerry,

Holding our breaths,

Nodding agreement to we knew not what.

Ignorance

I look at a piece of art

To which I cannot relate.

No, This is not a new feeling.

It happens whenever I open my eyes.

There are pieces of mirrors,

Notes on Chinese fortune cookie size paper

On a wall hanging that is without shape,

Embedded with 100 soda bottle caps.

I like the effect it has on me.

"Silly" is the word that springs to mind,

But I suspect there is more to it,

And as supreme ruler I would demand an explanation.

In a major exhibit at the Guggenheim

I'd be carrying a CD player that tells me all.

Instead I stand and ask the wall

"Why should I think this is good?"

My brain offers assorted responses:

"It exonerates me for standing in this spot so long".

"I like the bottle caps"

"Someone gave this work an award"

I half expect a time will come

When a fully certified attendant

Will point me out and demand

"Bourgeoisie soul, who let you in"?

Herb's Gifts

Herb knows the names of his teachers,

Everyone one of them,

Going back 85 years to kindergarten.

He has that gift.

A practical man

He avoids self-reference in the third person

But will share his history, be it humor or insight.

He has that gift.

His counsel is casual, but pointed.

Herb will ask before he answers,

Knowing he doesn’t want to answer the wrong question.

He has that gift.

Wise and outgoing he solicits other opinions,

Weighs them carefully.

He greets friends with a hug to show he cares.

He has that gift.

Herb’s love of family is the star

That allows the constellation

Of friends to draw close and feel the warmth.

He has that gift.

Going To Gramma Ann's

Only 80 miles to her house,

It seemed to take a lifetime.

Gramma Ann had that effect on me.

I dreaded every mile and every minute.

Her mother must have had an awful meal

Just prior to Ann’s birth,

Something bitter and indigestible,

Perhaps a very bad pickle.

Traffic moved slowly on the Long Island Expressway,

(What else is new?)

60 miles in 2 hours.

Crossing Manhattan claimed anther hour.

In a pre air-conditioned drive to Jersey,

Taking 4 sweat filled hours,

(Or was it days?)

There was one redeeming thought.

She was a grandma by marriage, not birth.

This woman, who never smiled,

Never parted with her closest friend, money,

Without signs of grief .

Arriving at her front door,

Looking at the short, stout body

Sitting beneath an unsmiling face

She greeted us “So finally you come for a visit.”

Xmas In New York

In New York, a strange euphoria 

Captures the city in late December.

What is this metamorphoses?

I think it's hope. 

The metropolis, always so cool, so cynical,

Wears a different mask for Christmas.

Suspended is the certainty 

That all is, inevitably, corrupt

A new-born seen as limitless,

Capable of the extraordinary,

Unfettered from gravity,

Allows those near to imagine the impossible

I am not immune to the small gift,

Of a stranger’s passing greetings,

A seat left open for the old guy,

Even as the train fills to capacity.

Not quite the morphine 

Dispersion of all matter,

Rather the easing of a foot

Stamped down on the gas peddle.

For these few days I loosen the knot,

Let the other car pass,

Feel a little better about myself

Open my eyes, smile, and exhale.

Good Morning

 With a clear voice and a smile

That said he was well pleased, expecting

A reciprocal greeting,

Came the child’s “good morning”.

Probably off to a kindergarten class

Safe and excited in the backseat of grandma’s car,

He was testing my world view,

Certain we would agree.

I judged he found my

“Good morning to you, my man”,

Satisfactory, further bolstering

His assessment of a world in good order.

Gods

I miss St. Christopher.

He had a clearly defined mission.

His image ( a real genuine Icon)

Stood between me and a head-on collision.

God, as a one-stop shop, reaches too far.

Allow me a god to order the universe, 

Another to assure victory in a foot race,

Yet a third to explain the death of a child.

Give me gods of different temperaments;

Some demanding, some kind,

Some vengeful, some indifferent,

And I will explain the world.

God, Gun and Money

On the island of 

"My God, My Gun, My Money",

There is music, patriotic music,

Horn and drum music, playing incessantly.

It annihilates dialogue,

Hip-hop and Beethoven and, 

Covers the earth with 

Semi naked drum-majorettes.

A 75 year old contract

That proclaimed acceptance of shared responsibility,

Now viewed as treason,

In this time when reason is overwhelmed by farce. 

Geezerville

“Geezerville”. that’s what the sign said.

Geyserville is where they must have “struck it rich”,

Geezerville must be where the son-in-law  “stuck the bitch”.

Main St. sidewalks there are painted green.

They’re serious about a greener planet.

Every 50 feet there is a post that holds

An emergency phone, an oxygen mask, and a defibrillator.

There are six other streets bearing names like

“Lovely Lane”, “Peace Place”, and  “Sedate Street”.

When you say “Hi”, residents  may look puzzled,

Offer no response, and  just keep smiling until you pass.

Everyone has great looking teeth.

There are continuous games of Bingo in the recreation center , ‘til 8:30.

Standing mid Lovely Lane, you can hear TV’s blaring on both sides of the road,

Jon Stewart on the left, Bill O’Reilly on the right.

Geezerville folks always vote, and carry at least 100 photos

Of the most beautiful baby since our ancestors came down from the trees.

Town security is provided by residents patrolling on Segways,

Blue for males, pink for ladies.

Feuds are plentiful and loud.

Streets are rolled up 9 PM sharp.

Plaids are very popular, especially in men’s pants.

Every resident possesses great wisdom, just ask.

Games

I suggest he watch public broadcasting.

He responds “Take a class in world history!”

Time to move away from the computer,

Listen to some music, get away from myself.

Yesterday I heard an attorney

Explain the waste.

Today I had a tax man

Explain the waste.

Yesterday a stranger sent a message:

“We must take back our country.”

Today he sent me another message:

“Obama was really born in Nairobi”.

I'll check my balance sheet,

If I find more assets than liabilities

There’s a place where the sun shines.

I'm going there.

Friday, 5 of us sat down for dinner.

4 people, and a mutt pit-bull.

We’ve done this before,

Once again the dog was well mannered,

But still hadn’t mastered utensils

Nor would she help with the dishes.