Sunday, January 27, 2013

She Tires Of Me

She no longer laughs
at my jokes
for she tires of me
she pulls back
from each offered caress
from each attempt at
a show of affection
for she tires of me
and even though
we have brought a child
into this besotted world of woe
and have exchanged vows
to love each other
to honor each other
in sickness and
in health
until death
would do us part
she tires of me

Had I but known
how soon sweet love
would curdle
and turn to sour milk
I would have chosen
to forego the
farce of our
church based
wedding ritual
in favor of a
more primitive
forest bachanal
chasing after many
cloven hooved maidens
who would no doubt
have required less of me
for the one
I did choose
to love exclusively

well, you see,
she tires of me

Philadelphia, Pa. 2013

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Our Hidebound World

When I think of all
the hideous hidebound rules
and regulations
that control the lives
of all the hidebound workers
who slave away the work day
caged in bee hive like cubicles
staring into the empty cyber space
of their computer screens
feeding and absorbing
digitalized factoids
that come streaming at them
at the speed of digitalized light
I can only shake my head sadly
at the waste of human life and
human potential

Once I offered a suggestion
to the digitalized suggestion box
that our agency do away with
the whole concept of cubicles
in favor of a more open
and flexible work space
in favor of more human inter-action
and shared work assignments
with less time spent
staring at computer screens
and more time spent
sharing our hopes
and thoughts
and dreams

The digitalized suggestion box
thanked me for my digitalized suggestion
and said that my ideas would receive
the appropriate review by
all the appropriate people at
all levels of the agency
chain of command

Days turned into weeks
and weeks turned into months
and months turned into years
but I never again head from
the digitalized suggestion box
concerning my digitalized concerns

I briefly considered resubmitting
my suggestions
but I quickly reconsidered
fearing that the powers that be
would think that I was a
trouble maker
or even worse
a whistle blower
or even worse
a traitor to
the American way of life

I did not want to be
thought of as a traitor
to the American way of life
for after-all:
treason never prospers
for if it prospers
none dare call it

Philadelphia, Pa. 2013

Friday, January 18, 2013

Getting Started

I just can't seem
to get my day started...

Perhaps if I farted...

Philadelphia, Pa. 2013

Monday, January 7, 2013

It's All About The Curves

 Salvador Dali
  once told a tale
about how he was
  absolutely transfixed
during a motor trip
through Andalusia
(some of the most beautiful
countryside in Spain)
not by the passing scenery
(which he had painted into
scores of canvases)
but by the phenomenon
of reflected sunlight
bouncing off the shiny chrome
of his car's bumper

I had a similar experience
standing at the Ryers Train Station
waiting for my daily
commute into center city
where I happened to see
a beautiful, curvy
red haired lady
whom I had gotten to know
as a casual acquaintance

The staggering simplicity
and eloquence of the
line of her back
as it ran down
the slight indent of her spine
and around the perfect curve
of her shapely derriere
absolutely had me transfixed and
filled me with a painter's desire
to put that perfect line
on canvas

And I wold have too
if I were a Dali
or if Dali were me

Philadelphia, Pa. 2013