What is it ?

 

It requires no envelope

and no postage at all –

It’s much less expensive

than a telephone call –

small as some pixels,

yet big as the sky –

is a friend that writes back

if just to say, “HI.”

An open letter to the rest of the World.

Dear Everyone Else,

I have people I know in several parts of the States.  They are people my own age, and some I have known for years.

Many of them refer to me as a friend, however - none of them ever bother to write to me.  Some of them respond whenever I send out an email, but to generate one on their own...

it just doesn't happen.

What is it about me that keeps people from typing a simple hello?

How are you?

and then push the send button.

Do I have bad juju?  Have I been cursed by some gypsy?

Maybe I cut her grass when I was a kid and I missed a spot.

Who's to say?

But if it is true, how do I find out?

How do I remove an old gypsy curse?

There are people in prison who get letters.  Do I need to rob a bank in order to get an email?

That doesn't seem right.

Anyway - thanks for listening.

It's no big deal.

I'll be fine.

No, really...

close this out and get on with your day.

I just be here.

waiting...

Shelf Life

 

Another Saturday – don’t ask me why,

still going strong – beyond my Best By...

Fresh as a Daisy – I don’t wish to stop,

unscrew my lid – you’ll still hear a pop.

The only preservatives – are ones that I drink,

and the only additives – are ones that I think.

Maybe I’m dusty – and look a bit old,

but I’ll stay on the shelf – till the day that I’m sold.

When that day comes – you’ll know who I am,

some call me lunchmeat – my friends call me Spam.

RIP

Fishing from my stream of consciousness

 

My thoughts are never running deep

My hook - a paperclip –

My bait is smelly as my feet,

Ideas, they squirm and slip –

 

All my life has been upstream

The banks, forever closed –

It’s always summer in my dreams,

But from there - nothing flows.

 

One day I’d like a fine canoe

Float past the Weeping Willows –

With time to sort through fluffy down

Retrieving dreams from pillows.

You're going to have to do better than this.

 

County Archives

 

A government job of before

was to add a glass to a door –

The contractor knew it

but you couldn’t see through it,

so they stuck on a sign like before.

 

It's a Southern Thing

 

Fern MaGurkle lived on our street

she never wore shoes on her feet

She kept fish in a tank, she smoked, and she drank –

things she started she’d never complete.

She had a young brother named Gary

In a cage he had a canary –

no one knows why, but he taught it to fly –

with a gun just like Dirty Harry.

In the story of Gary and Fern

is a lesson I think we can learn

if you live in the South

don’t shoot off your mouth

cuz people down there are just scary.

 

 

Part Time

 

I really don’t remember

having reached my final thinking

past the void I only see

when I am drinking,

 

I’ve left no path or walkway

so my steps I won't retrace

when the only thought remembered

is your face,

 

A worn and broken headstone

completely void of rhyme,

tells the world that I was here

at least – part time,

 

Accounts are all in order

no final payment due

I’ll be an apparition

when I am through,

 

A spirit just in passing

an afterthought perhaps,

a soldier never smart enough

to know when he’s heard taps.

 

 

The Hospice Indians

 

Running Fox had been an amazing brave.  There wasn’t anyone in the tribe that wasn’t impressed by him or who didn’t enjoy his sage advice and amazing stories.

He was one of those who could travel with ease through the forest and never step on a single twig or crunchy leaf. 

Last night, however, as he tried to quietly make his walk down the hall, his old bones snapped and popped announcing his location to every room he passed.  Even with Thunder Woman supporting his arm as he walked, he couldn’t help but feel the hawk would be coming for him soon.

Once back in his room he lay quietly looking up at the white-man television.  He pictured himself as Indiana Jones.  He envisioned the garage door slowly closing, He had to act quick if he was to dive and roll beneath it before it slammed shut.

“Toss me the whip.”

“No, toss me the bedpan, then I’ll toss you the whip.”