A Waupaca Snowday

Yes, she’s a pretty redhead.
No I don’t know her name.
Ask her out? Nah,
It always ends the same—
I don’t get her,
She doesn’t cotton to me.
It’s been like that
From the dawn of eternity.
Bring her home for Thanksgiving?
I believe that’s a bit too soon.
With all that six-foot social distancing
Might as well be on the dark side of the Moon.
I heard from Waupaca,
It’s gonna snow all day,
But the trains keep a-runnin’
On that Canadien North railway.
There’s Loo and her mighty kid,
Out chasing the Loco Progressive!
I tell ya these holidays alone
Are getting a mite depressive.
I think I’ll trip over to the Twilight Zone
And look into Mr. Nelson’s Game.
Ask her out? Nah,
It always ends the same.

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In the Dark, in the Cold, in the Quiet and All

A simple shameless shuffle
From blonde to brunette
Until he woke up again quite alone
Realizing only now it was so too late

That you really must make a considered choice—
Decide finally who you want to take to the ball,
Or you will certainly, in the end, pass all alone
In the dark, in the cold, in the quiet and all

The music was a rapture,
Fiddle and accordion entwined,
Her unfurled skirts blossomed across the floor,
All were happy, two-stepped, wined and dined.

Next morning bags were quick conveyed,
Gone Concourse C to return to her places up North;
You slow walked to the parking garage
Not realizing the so on and the so forth:

That you really must make a considered choice—
Decide on finally who you want to take to the ball,
Or you will certainly, in the end, pass all alone
In the dark, in the cold, in the quiet and all

A road trip here and a visit there
How you acted as if you were above it all
Everyone was coupled, partying, and fun
Now he wonders why is it no one ever calls.

The best ones really are all taken.
All the smart happy ones have debarked the bus.
You thought love will always be out there;
So, why should you have to make a fuss:

That one really must make a considered choice—
Decide on finally who you want to take to the ball,
Or you will certainly, in the end, pass all alone
In the dark, in the cold, in the quiet and all

Now the eyes fail, hair thins out,
And the joints no longer so strong.
Am I really the grasshopper in the end
Who must admit he was so so wrong?

That all really must make a considered choice—
Decide on finally who you want to take to the ball,
Or we will certainly, in the end, pass all alone
In the dark, in the cold, in the quiet and all

Old Flame

Hello, old flame—
Is it time to relight dead embers?
And are your eyes green or blue,
Asks the one who never remembers?
And do you remember when
We sunburned on Sandbridge Beach,
Searching for a lifelong love
That was always so far out of reach?
One of us sailed away;
The other went back to school.
Luckily you had escaped
A life with this poor old fool.
And why do we always reframe
The errors of our youthful past?
Now so older and wiser,
We know nothing can so long last
As the longing for sure arms;
Or someone to chase the dark cloud.
But, it seems to be my lot
That that someone I’m not allowed.
So, I guess I have to ask:
Do you even remember my name?
Because here I come a-calling—
Hello, old flame.

Mixed Emotions

Mixed emotions swirl
Then fall down
And curl
Another merlot-fueled atrocity
Masquerading as inspired verse
But it’s far from free random
Something much much worse
Second glass empties
Begs a refill—
Yes, please
A young Friday evening
Perseverating in isolation
I’d love to have a date
But that requires some ambulation
The ringer on mute
A cell insolent,
No pursuit
A Facebook lovely in Killeen
How to make a connection?
So many never-never starts,
Dust-in-sprinkles wet the imagination
Mixed emotions weigh
Then slip off
Anyway

Sonoma

Well you can have yr napas
And your alexandres valley too
But for me
Sweet Charlene
Its gotta be sonoma
If you wanna more

Go those screaming pitchers
And the foam runs like no tomorrow
But for me
Sweet Charlene
Its gotta be sonoma
If you gonna git me

Play them ponies
And those fantasy teams so n(aw)fl
But for me
Lil Charlene
Its gonna be sonoma
If ya gotta play for free

Flash yer baby blues
And those puppies fo sho
But for me
Sweet Charlene
Its always a glassa sonoma
If its me you wanna see

Uh/Say Goodnight

Uh
Yes he was dressed
As usual, distressed
As you’d know
A phone unrung
And plans uphung
As you’d know
The nick was stippled
As the ground rippled
Nowhere to go
Back in the house
Quiet as a mouse
Nowhere to go
Paid some bills
Dollar sign thrills
Is that the phone?
Run to the door
But there’s more
Is that the phone?
No one there
A buzz in the air
Say goodnight
Back to bed
Down lay the lonely head
Say goodnight
The cat meowed
As is allowed
He opened the door
But there she stood
Drenched in her parka hood
As you’d know
It began with a glance
You have to take a chance
As you’d know
Say goodnight

Wrong-Sized Glass

Sorry, I know it’s the wrong-sized glass
but it is a pretty nice red.
we can crack open this bottle
or go for walk instead.
usually just down to the gulch,
it matters not how far,
or maybe off to the zoo
we can take my old car.
I just want to spend some time
and get to know you better,
even though my stupid old cat
won’t want to meet your setter.

So, I’ll put the merlot up,
since you’ve turned me down.
I really wish for you the best
and hope to see you around town.
the old poet saved the page
and powered off his computer;
tomorrow to try again
imaging the life of a suitor—
heartbreak, in crisp 64 RAM,
meets: “I yam what I yam!”