Monday, July 14, 2014

Monday, July 7, 2014


See the zombified walk of kids casting downcast eyes to tempting gadgets,
out on the sidewalk avoiding talk of heat-seeking missiles,
whose parents struggle to find money for crucial combustion,
whose teachers are sued for evil or tempting eyes,
a generation that is an infirm and soothing promise to the generation before,
who cannot do anything without computers,
who sees benefits from grass picked and fostered
by hippie mystics frequently accused of wiTcHCraft,
whose main gimmick consists of here and now
but remains distracted by menacing debt,
who shuns ideas with blind eyes and
use tips of fingers as earplugs
against words waving through air,
whose nation is built on airborne steel balls
and diplomatic dick measuring,
who munch on pills for every perceived ailment,
who go through discomfort for the greater good.

Saturday, July 5, 2014


Summer is here

I can tell from mom's
olive-skinned arms as
she reaches for life
in the backyard garden.

Her sun hat droops
as she bends and 
her gloves are black
from dirt.

Summer is here

I can tell from
shiny classic cars
driving down the highway -
breathing once again.

Everything seems to breathe

Summer is here

I can tell from the
drunken shouting of
the couple next door
late at night.

They yell and yell,
and within an hour
it gets quiet except for
dreamy sighs of slumber.