Friends

“I’m happy”, he said.

Bullshit, he just wants to believe business problems do not define him.

I offered useless advice,

Hoping to diminish the rate of fall.

If  I  call, 

Thereby acknowledging you are more than a name,

And wish to keep you in my life,

My motivation can be questioned, but not my action. 

When I understand your ambiguous smile,

Or a comment that seems destined for obscurity

Then you and I can share a curse or a complaint

Or withstand a compliment, 

50 years beyond parental claims I have negotiated an internal agreement:

I can love a friend and say it, 

Without qualification,

Accepting the risk.

Floating Down The River

Evan was unhappy.

The life jacket he was forced to wear, upside down, to secured his bottom

And made any attempt to control his speed a wasted effort.

“This has ruined my vacation” he lamented, in a loud aggrieved voice.

No, this 8 year-old did not like this at all.

That is... until he saw his Grandpa floating on his back.

Now that made a difference.

Everyone, except Grandpa and Evan, seemed to really dig

The calm , bright, blue-green water, and the “tolley” grass

That encroached from the low-lying isles bordering the river,

Where translucent whiffs of fog evaporated before they could ascend.

Evan’s parents and the others on this float trip,

Forced  by the upside down life jacket to sit upright,

Sailed downstream.

Grandpa, unable to see or steer,

Was helplessly drifting into the isles root system

Poor guy, must’ve had strange body weight distribution.

When he tried to sit the life jacket flopped him down.

Leaving him to view the sky and the occasional mangrove branch

That would accept Grandpa into its thorny embrace.

Grandma dragged Grandpa back to the middle of the stream,

Pointed him in the right direction,

Only to repeat the effort 5 minutes later.

She tried to get him upright

But that effort propelled the old guy

Into a face down position,

Making drowning nearly inevitable.

Seeing Grandpa, pulled out of his “dead man’s float” dragged to a sitting position,

Only to flop onto his back again,

And float once more in the general direction of the Pacific Ocean,

Delighted Evan. To him this was “very cool”.

Family

Communications isn’t our strong suit,

Some of us wholly disinterested

In matters that mean something to the others.

As a group a begrudging B would be generous,

Except when we speak of Stephen Marbury.

This surpassing point guard, with a real attitude problem,

Has seven of us voicing inter-family positions.

We may not agree about Israel, but we do agree on Marbury,

Or, at least, we have taken the time to let our views be known.

From Boston comes concern he will ruin Celtic chemistry.

From New York relief that he is going,

And from California amazement.

Amazement in that correspondents have found their voices,

Expressing sentiments I haven’t heard since Brooklyn 1957.

We are talking opinions, loud and clear.

Hello people, haven’t heard from you in a long time.

Could this be the coming of “final days”?

Is Stephen the one we have been seeking,

Rather then a bearded guy in a loincloth?

Let us rejoice before Stephen destroys Boston.

Exploding Cars

Most auto accidents occur

Within 10 miles of your home,

At speeds under 50 miles per hour.

Conclusion: Wear a seat belt while playing your piano.

Cell phones are not to be engaged

While pumping gas.

It seems the phones could cause a spark

Leading to an explosion.

Looking at fellow drivers filling their cars

I wonder what would happen

If several made or received calls now?

Could we have a chain reaction?

If the morning news trumpeted

A terrorist attack at the Costco gas line

Would the Dow loss 1,000 points in 30 seconds?

Would the air national guard scramble jet fighters?

Would all cell phones then be silenced world wide?

Could this be another Jewish conspiracy?

Next we’d hear from an eye witness:

“There was a “pop” followed by a “boom!”

“With each boom a puff of smoke issued,

And the car collapsed, like a balloon deflating.

The person filling the car shot up about 20 feet,

Followed by another airborne victim.

“ Like snap, crackle & pop cereal, man!

All the gas people slammed down

Near their cars, holding the ashes of

What must have been a cell phone.”

Amazingly no serious injuries were reported.

However, we understand that several of the victims

Are seeking to sue Costco for destruction of car and phone,

Coupled with recovery of the cost of gas poured.

El Paso Aint Got No Culture

There is an open sewer called Butte,

El Paso’s got no center. it has a middle, but no center.

Gertrude Stein told us about Oakland,

No one mentioned Gallop or Amarillo.

Small towns and great cities

Across the vastness of America

Mark their place with a park, a bandstand

Or late night library that bespeaks some larger view.

In the Montana town of  Bozeman

There is a pizza parlor  called “Karl Marx”.

Its windows aren’t smashed.

People matter.

Drought

New York’s mayor, Impelliteri, had a plan.

Rain, he told us, fell in 7 year cycles.

This being the last year of a drought cycle ,

Next year would bring much more rain.

Can you hear the violins lament, or the laughter from Heaven?

Joseph, of the Old testament, understood cycles ...

And planning. 

A rare inhabitable planet, like Earth, has not been found in our neighborhood.

Animal life, above the waters edge, has disappeared five times 

Five times it has reemerged.  

I’m optimistic it will start again.

Life forms vary with each reincarnation.

It is inconsequential to our galaxy 

What creatures hold sway, or for how long ....

But stop. Who am I to decide the galaxy’s agenda.

Fortunately, we are not rational,

Otherwise the insanity would really prove upsetting.

Lets enjoy the trip we’re on 

And continue to believe it will all work out,

Knowing it will all work out.

Dressing

 I don’t lose earmuffs anymore.

Stopped having cold ears

When I moved west.

Now I lose baseball caps.

This is progress.

All those ear-muffs were navy blue.

Baseball caps come in many colors.

No discrimination, I lose them all.

I must be making a fashion statement with the caps.

Earmuff’s just kept my ears from hurting.

Seems I don’t care much for fashion or warm ears.

This is wisdom.

Dinner at Pablo's

Most prize fixe dinner restaurants are upscale,

With no seating for dogs.

Few include an “Amuse Bouche”

Of “White Truffle infused Chestnut Puree with Herb Toast”

The dining room is floors up.

With a table set for four.

Wilma is a quiet and expectant Pit-bull 

Her place, a fifth seat, has no dishes or silverware.

Willy, to friends, does not review 

The menu that calls for “Sweet Shrimp and Scallop In Four different Ways”

Or the very superior paper stock upon which it is printed.

Nor is she impressed by the candles or background music.

Tonight’s entree: Lemon Grass and Shiitake Ravioli.

Celery Root Puree. Miso Black Cod,

(And a slightly different offering for Sonia, resident vegan)

Does impress Pablo’s guests.

As outrageously special the meal,

It was the planning that was most impressive.

Dishes, sauces, suppliers, menu

Could not have come together without thought, a prior.

Planners must envision an outstanding result,

And proceeds from that vision,

Or their project will not, without amazing good fortune,

Reach the equivalent of Pablo’s dinner.

Did I feel a little giddy? Of course.

But not from the wines accompanying the repast. 

I have a creeping feeling I’ve joined 

French royalty moments before the revolution

Vegan NY Style Cheesecake will not save my soul.

Nor will the Vegan Chocolate Cheesecake.

Prohibited from helping with the dishes, 

Some bought specifically for this meal, did not help.

 Fortunately there was no dress code for this bacchanal 

And portion sizes were not grossly excessive.  

From an environmental point of view,

Use of paper products was very minimal.

David

His voice would sound adult,

If not for the hollow vibration

That asks for acceptance,

And a place at the adult’s table.

There is a Willy Loman desperation

In his almost settled comments.

Reasoned, sometimes humorous,

David’s loneliness engulfs him.

Estranged from his family

Not in a manifest sense,

Rather as the child whose voice

Is not heard in the decision making process.

Fear, an unwelcome companion,

Insubstantial but omnipresent,

Deprives David of  the joy

That remains after childhood is gone.

If love is the answer

Where must he travel to retrieve

His memory of bonding?

Confessions Of A Failed Socialist

The fault lies with my grandparents.

Quintessential immigrants

Who did not speak of equality,

And believed in family and socialism.

Having absolved myself of responsibility

I can move to more proximate culprits;

For parents who wanted  to “get ahead”.

Education and financial security were their hallmarks.

From where I stand the terrain appears uneven.

Peaks have risen, the valleys deeper.

Transit between them has become harder,

And the coming revolution will be brutal.

My sympathies cannot bear inspection.

I’ve shown little disinterest in comfortable living.

I think of a kibbutz as a grand experiment

That was not designed for me.

I am , cynicism not withstanding,

Awed by those who choose,

Not as a senior in search of redemption,

Meaning over means.

Cold Corner

Nose running, eyes tearing 

I walked to the subway stop on 8th.

Cold and clear, the street lights

Break through the night.

Coming up to 7th and Broadway,

Dreading the next corner.

Wool cap secure, gloves pulled tight, ear-muffs in place,

I knew a challenge awaited me.

Last Tuesday night the malicious god

That occupies this corner

Caught me with a blast of Arctic air.

Cost me a hat and half of my loose-leaf.

New York’s finest street dust 

Invaded my nose and eyes.

I thought I heard the wind laugh

As it released me to the subway stairs.

I know, Lincoln had it harder.

125 miles to school and back,

Bears and -250 degree temperature.

But did he have a wind chill factor?

Coco's

On another corner,

With good parking and easy access  

Another branch might be

Working through these rough times.

That “other” restaurant would likely

Have cleaner tables, light fixtures

With all bulbs lit.

But no more friendly employees.

It’s a weird arrangement of 

Universal matter where the place

Needs only bare, failing fluorescents  

To achieve a Hopper desperation. 

In obstinate opposition the waitress

Smiles, stands straight, says hi

And appears ready to overcome

The impending gloom.

I wonder if in six months’ time 

She will stand ever so sightly bent

Or will the dead bulbs be replaced?

Perhaps she will work at that other location.

Clowns

Dressed appropriately, in banner colors,

Surrounded by classic cars and women on horseback,

Marchers representing army and navy and Ford dealers,

Wave flags, bring cheers.

Clowns in tri- colored costumes encourage

The crowd to rejoice.

Sadly they seem tired,

Possibly discouraged.

Children run to them expecting

Tricks and favorite candies,

And are often rewarded.

Others seek them out

 To squirt pistols

That spew strips of “silly string”.

That stick to the clowns, and mar the colors.

I am not a clown,

Still I shared their outrage,

Boiling over with practiced restraint,

Leading to verbal impeachment of

Offending children and their immediate families.

Happy 4^th.

Civilization

We may not know what it is,

But we’ll notice when the lights go out.

When asked about tomorrow’s world

I usually respond that extinction is a possibility.

“Evolution” is “change”,

Earth and all that occupy it are not exempted

We follow with the knowledge

That the limits are markers

Laid down at the edge of our imagination.

We rule as the greatest of omnivores,

Insisting that the deck chairs are ours,

Unaware of their frailty.

You and I make no soap or guns,

But we will use them.

Cherry Pie

If I can’t have a piece of pie

I think I’ll just sit here and cry

Until Mom, with a sigh,

Says, “My oh my!

Is that a tear in your eye?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I spy!

“You know the price is quite high,

And we can’t afford to buy.

But perhaps  the guy who sells the pie

Will give us a slice when I tell him why?”

“My little girl, who is very shy,

And never  utters a lie.

Said, I'll just  lay down and die

If I don’t get a piece of

That delicious  cherry pie”

With Chocolate ice cream!”