Thursday, December 08, 2011

Noise Abatement

Noise Abatement

Like an incoming tide
the dishwasher is roaring
and just when I think

that it is the only sound
in the building, a woman screams
below me. The condos on

both sides of me suddenly
awaken with music and chatter
men shout at their wives

and girlfriends. The racket
multiplies. The woman next door
is teaching her goldfish to sing .

The parakeets are restless
and peck their beaks raw
against the cold steel cage bars. I too

am fidgety and think
the sound beaming from the television
the limit of my patience.

Were you here, I would not
hear the goldfish sing ,
nor restless, angry birds.

We would dance all night,
your hair sleeping across my chest.
In the morning, I would awaken you

with my warm hands and say,
“I’ll make some coffee”!

Saturday, August 13, 2011

A Glass of Wine

A Glass of Wine

Here is a glass of wine from my vines
It tastes of sweet grape and pungent earth
It is the best I've grown, from early times
and it is precious, and better than new rain.
Maybe someone will visit this vineyard one day
to sip and be refreshed, and leave happy,
a traveler in deep depression as I was
before I drank down sweet wine from a glass,
sipped a deep-red hue to keep me sane,
after the blue cloud had disappeared.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

March

March

A thirty-five mile an hour wind with no relief
Our days upended...the blow enormous and

indiscreet, shakes loft and limb to rafts of leaves
The onerous gale leaves an ominous dark

with no respite. We nail the shutters
as the weatherman suggests. Neighbors follow suit.

Danger captivates us. Stay indoors.
In the distance, a throbbing, muffled noise

a cyclone, whirling round its eye
seeking a random victim.