After a bottle of wine,
a little smoke,
watching "Sixteen Candles"
with a foolish grin on my face,
I remembered Marie Pinchet
my freshman year
behind Sherman Field
in the grass
along the river.
I turn officially old
in two months,
double nickel, 55.
All the oats I've planted
have long since been gathered.
Yet the smell of the marshes,
and the bells of the fishing boats
foretold a life near water.
My one love, the woman
that holds my heart,
has always been the sea.
Like my good friend said once,
Drowning is a sailor's only way home.
Marie, ahh, Marie...
The sky was so blue that day.

The wind, one day...

The trees outside my window
animatedly discuss the wind.
I used to like wind.
Now it drains me.
Too many storms, I guess,
and no place to hide from them.
I watch the kids and their kites
exploring hidden boundaries.
I kind of miss when wind was
the highway for my soul.
The wind passes my window,
thumb extended, going where it will.
I close the drapes, turn on my lamp,
and listen to the stories of the wind.

Lately, after a glass of wine,
I've been getting reckless.
I'll call a woman up
say
Hi it's me
and
remember that time
and
when you did that
and finally
Why didn't we

and an hour later we hang up

Then there are the dreams of the road.
A soul of concrete, a diesel soul,
a twelve speed soul, that’s how I rolled.
I hate that it calls and I must
leave the call unanswered.
Ah, time.
You many miles.
I have the heart of a Troubadour,
the flesh of a stone.

A Christmas Card For My Family And Friends

I think most of us hoping for a miracle want one we can witness.
We can believe when we see. Lotteries and big payoffs.
A negative ( or positive ) on the pregnancy test, an "A" on a final.
If we have a wider view we can recognize that the meteor
that finished the Age Of The Dinosaurs was fortunate,
miraculous in long term.
Noah having an ark handy for the Flood...
luck or miracle, I'll take that.
For me, the miracle I celebrate might not even have happened.
Imagine that while God formed the formless into form,
maybe He sneezed, and while occupied with the sneeze
a comet strayed a bit from it's intended course and out of His intent,
flashed over an ancient desert world, answering an age old question:
Can one birth change what an off-course comet could not?
The margin between miracle and catastrophe,
between salvation and loss, between here and gone
is in the pause of a sneeze.
Merry Christmas everyone.

How 'bout this?

I don't want to be
the greatest living Poet.
Too much work,
not enough money.
But,
famous when I'm dead...
no pressure, no burn-out,
plenty of time to relax.

I am the poet
with a switchblade corkscrew.
I can type faster one-eyed
and one fingered than
I can read.
Can't write a rhymed poem
to save my loving soul,
but I know the blues
when I feel them.

Fame would just come
between me and the Word.
I can't spare time for anything else.
Call my agent after I depart,
I'll give you an interview.

Yeah

It is not a good idea
to drunk-text the President,
on face book.
He was selling a patriotic
coffee mug to support
his presidential habit
and I commented
Sir, its a nice mug,
but I think there are other things
that could use a little tending to.
I asked him to remember
the promises he made
and we believed.
And I said
give my love to the family.

We'll see how this one goes...

BYE


Those many times
when the thought of you
brightened my days...
So many years wasted,
waiting.
I hung on every word.
I knew the color of your eyes.
Well, hearts can be fooled,
yes and laughter can be lost,
but I can get past even this.
Loving you
was the holiest act
of my life.