May / June Poetry

 2 AM

if sorrow is faded joy 

wisdom is fermented pain

given the right feeding

creativity’s nascence

from a deep sense of sans 

the incessant sui generis dream 

a supernal message from the deep 

stretches us into waking 

____________________

Morgen

The linebacker pigeons on the table

Contend with tonsured jackdaws 

Whose only religion is handouts

They strut on the ledge, tilting their heads

At the woman in the window—

A tenuous inquiry 

She smiles—

Yes, you may partake of my offering:

The handful of vittles 

Left behind 

By the dearly departed cat

Swamp Folk

The Dutch do not believe

That Florida is real

But when someone is schlepping a boa constrictor,

A bag of sandwiches, a girlfriend, a mattress,

An armful of flowers, a growler of beer, and a child

All at once

The only way to tell the difference:

Segway or fiets?