
For the children of Ukraine: May their national flower smile on them again.
For the children of Ukraine: May their national flower smile on them again.
BEER PARLOR 2 THE DARK SIDE
Inside all is sound and fury
old friends catching up
a tough week sliding away
drop by drop
Outside, son or daughter
watches the door
every time it opens it’s him
but it isn’t
With every neighbor going in
sending a mounting plea
“What about me”
GARDENING IN THE MINEFIELD
An errant tap root
tapping a triggering device
can quickly juice a careless carrot
The force of cabbage growing
may result in coleslaw fireworks
And the blood of beets
hardly distinguishable
from that of small boys
with hoes
NEW TRIBES
From the old tribe of Isaac
and the old tribe of Ishmael
Israeli and Palestinian
couples and their children
come together by the sea and share
We are teaching the skills of listening
the skills of sharing and skills of hearing
The rules are simple
tell your truth as your truth only
Assume as you listen
that the person makes sense
If they do not seem to make sense
assume you need more information,
By the end of the weekend
the eight year olds are sleeping over
teenagers walk on the beach till dawn
A new tribe being formed
HI HO HI HO
Work
I sometimes think about it, but not too hard
Like, shouldn’t there be a different word
for doing what we love or hate, for money
Like how I got to drive big trucks at eighteen
that I dreamed about at eight
and they paid me
Like playing cowboy and riding the range
where the deer and the antelope play
and getting paid
Building buildings bigger than Lego
and getting paid
Maybe work is about being serious
but I seriously question that too
I mean, what can be more joyous and serious
than a child adding one last block to his tower
or me, as I write this poem, and look up
to see it is 1:25 in the morning