Foreign Exchange

Have a nice day

Within minutes, I dawn new gowns: 

neutral, sad, happy, oblivious, present

and fear reigning with her three tiered tiara.

Then, I do it again:

neutral, sad, happy, oblivious...

Dying Alone

blood numbers

For forty-five years

he’s driven me away

using numbers or facts

as a prodding rod.

Breathing

I know longer care about

the big questions:

tuna or chicken salad

and all it’s variants – god, no god.

I’d rather watch the landscape

turn from dawn to noon to dusk to stars.

I’d rather lay my head on your chest 

with it’s moving up and down.

Warehousing the infinite

For my taste the infinite

is better boxed, labeled, and

safely stored in an out of the way

forgotten warehouse guarded 

by grave robbers and the CIA.

Signs

Is it a good sign

the down feather floating

from heaven, or has

another pigeon been

sacrificed for a priest’s meal?

Death plays solitaire

When death came to linger

he was slow, tender and deliberate.

He did not demand entrance

instead he tended and care for the quail,

the ravens and coyotes. 

He pulled weeds in the front and backyard

whistling lullabies and singing

an old Arabian folk song. 

At night he lit his fire, tended 

the stars and was content to play 

solitaire for the forty-billionth time.

Questions 34,451 & 34,452

If the universe is expanding,
what’s it expanding into?


Who’s the marionette
behind the marionette?