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What Time Have You
So here I am at seven o’clock
Umm, that’s not the real time
Its where in my maze I’m lost at
Is really 9:20am to fix the rime
Lost inside this place
Of my own making
So I am amazing
Ain’t anybody here faking
Two glasses gone
A merlot for moi
What’ll you have—
Muscadine for toi?
Truelove went to Maine
Chances favor the Bentley
But we‘ll go home alone
Just saying truth, incidentally
No answers from my imprudent text
Who knows what’s coming next,
Chances swarm and the mind reels,
I wonder is that how kismet feels.
Around the bend and around the corner
Such nights as these I could be a goner
But the parade comes thither and anon
Beads, doubloons, and lingering glances and I’m so gone
Over my head for the goddess up ahead
Only to return solo to my Lysol-kissed unmade bed
Cat gets his insulin in the morning
Nine units to keep him alive
You think live isn’t fair
Well, I can’t disagree Clive
So here I am at nine o’clock
Umm, that’s not the real time
It’s just where in my maze I’m lost at
Is really midnight to fix the rime
And
I haven’t words
Let alone verses,
Lost inside these memories
And all those unshouted curses
Over undelivered king cake
And distant disdaining lovers.
It’s terribly alone and cold,
Kibitzing with the cat under covers.
All I want to do
Is laugh, dance, and sing:
Without tissues
Or stirring issues
That don’t mean a thing.
I haven’t time
Nor seconds to spare
To at last convince you
That I just might really care:
Over unfulfilled promises,
My remonstrating old lover.
Might we picnic again
In Audubon Park’s clover?
All I need do
Is having married you instead:
Without pale issues
Needing nearby tissues
Next to the unmade bed.
I lack the K, S, and A’s
Let alone the brains
To make good this sad lyric
Who’s refrain sorely strains
Over past years and lies—
A poor shattered kite
That no longer flies,
As I savor the dreams
Of the joy twixt your crossed thighs.
All I want to do
Is laugh, dance, and sing:
Without issues
Reaching for tissues
Badabop Badabing.
A Safe Place
I’ve lost that place to let a tear;
My heart’s gone to its safe place.
How could things go so wrong?
What new horrors must we face?
Barricades fall from Seattle town,
But nothing’s better, not at all.
I’ve no stamp for my letter
Begging to be allowed to call.
Things today sing with a minor key,
But youngin there’s just one thing:
Passion stills, for just a moment, the longing—
Yet loneliness in old age still prides its sting.
Did she survive the novel virus?
Will she return to us fully alive?
Glasses for all to share the sauterne!
Breathe the air! Dance! Sing! Thrive!
I’ve lost the time to shed a tear,
My words go without a decent rhyme,
The End: how will we deeply know?
What new pain unfolds with wrinkled time?
Cute Little Millie Second
Cute little Millie Second
Spritzed on by
Sweet little Millie Second
Almost make me cry
Darling little Millie Second
Not half a moment
Wee little Millie Second
A life fully zip spent
And there’s never enough time
Gone, just like this rhyme
Shouldna (c’est la vie)
Shouldna kissed her fast
Shouldna thrown that glass
Shouldna taken the road less traveled
Shouldna known to let it all pass
Shouldna went along
Shouldna stayed up all night
Shouldna trusted to chance
Shouldna let her pass from all sight
Shouldna made my point
Shouldna made it hard stick
Shouldna thought it’d all work out
Shouldna been quite so dammed thick
Shouldna trusted to luck
Shouldna gone to ground
Shouldna flown to LA
Shouldna left the lost and found
Shouldna quit my job
Shouldna ever let her go
Shouldna mustered out
Shouldna did so much blow
Shouldna listened to the gods
Shouldna listen to the Oh So Wise
Shouldna left New Orleans
Shouldna slammed shut both my eyes
Shouldna been born when I was
Shouldna believed in the mardi gras
Shouldna drown in the sorrow
Shouldna disbelieve in the power of tomorrow
3:20 PM
That parceled out portion of understanding
Failed again this day—
Lost my grasp on the time and missed my
3:18.
It was now after, just by a few minutes.
I’d lost that only one-time unique time.
The loss!
I’d never get that 3:18!
The failure!
How sad.
Like missing an eclipse just outside one’s door
Because the phone rang! Nothing…robocall!
So, on August 26, 2017 at 3:18PM, I was awaste on a rung phone,
And missed a piece of Only Once Ever.
Musing
You asked of late how I was,
I failed to answer.
I was in the company of Misery,
But not to fret;
Misery has been my companion long these short 62 years.
We are old close-kept friends,
But such marvelous blues:
Steel, royal, sky, ice, midnight,
And the pale blue-white of late sunset:
A miserable color as neither pure nor hearkening of dark.
But my friend—
I am well enough to run a half-mile
And smart enough to take a dosage of sufficient aspirin;
I no longer hurt so much,
But for the loneliness.
Misery shares such liberally with me,
We both explore the Small Empty.
In the fullness of Time I have shared great times
And small reverses with co-workers and patients and their families,
But no more.
I’m in between opportunities,
So I remain,
Yours truly,
Musing….
Skip Skipping
Time is skip slipping
As the rain comes misting down
I think I really like you
With you I can sing and clown
Time is a sore pouring
The wine is half gone
Dance we again across the floor
We spin and spin until half-passed dawn
Time stops stupid short
You skitter sweetly out the door
You seem positively unsure
If you’ll come this way anymore
Time comes to do laundry
Separate the lights from the sweats
But we’d danced so hand-in-glove—
Always seem to lose at these kind of bets
Time for my daily bread work
Cloths are all neatly pressed
On a misty kind of rainy morning
One must always look one’s best
Because when the time seems right and the Sun supershines
The world may yet crash down but you still must work the mines
Wanna dance?
Across Audubon Park
Now I’ve become old
Time has passed and taken hold
Down to the plain nitty gritty
From now on things won’t be so pretty
At least that’s what I’m told
Now I’m taken ill
The future promises a different thrill
Taken to bed feeling low
No one speaks about how this’ll go
Where did I file that Living Will?
Now the days have grown dark
What once was passion is the barest spark
Take my things I need them no more
I’ve deeper mysteries ahead to explore
Sprinkle the remains across Audubon Park
Now I lay me down to slee….
Beware John Warren!
I smell popcorn
Or is it burnt fries
I see John in the Break Room
Telling Katja lies
I smell popcorn
None for me please
Those charred kernels
Knock me to my knees
Offer me popcorn
And please don’t judge
Don’t be offended
If I’d rather wait for fudge
I smell popcorn
Or a whiff of smoke
Beware of John Warren
He’s a Burning Bloke
So if you want popcorn
Of another tasty snack
Please first put out the fire
In our microwave shack