Interrogatory

Apparent suicide,
Military intelligence.
Will I be so well regarded
When I achieve some past tense?
Foster a puppy?
Get it together,
Hang on you guys
We’re in for some nasty weather.
Spin some ‘Stones,
Maybe Moonlight Mile?
She’s gone to the theatre—
Can I hang with you awhile?
Or Doobies ‘White Sun;’
Does that make me a racist?
We’re just swaying to the groove;
Please put your PC into cease and desist.
Teachers in tights,
Boots above the knee.
It’s not the clothes, moron.
It’s the quality of the preceptor, see?
The A/C is back on,
The kid’s at St. Ed’s;
All that folded laundry
And, lately, unmade beds.
Waiting for your call,
Ringer turned up high.
Jack the cat stretches
And turns over with a sigh.
The only interrogative:
So, how did it go?
If I only knew,
I would let you know.

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Vinaigrette Sunset

the grass is cut,
the clippings all swept away,
as the sun whittles down
the end of this third April Sunday.
cat meows for dinner,
his feed dish piled up high;
as the laundry waits for folding—
the clothes at last are all dry.
what nonsense will the week bring?
will I continue being so alone?
as unanswered are my dreams
and dusty the bell inside an unrung phone.
see, the Moon rises
and Spring toddles on,
as a one-row Cajun accordion still calls
after all these long years gone.