I know it’s only cellophane

Which I loathe

Like lifting toilet seats

But it’s a warm wrap

That clings and smothers

With cackles pure and real

The stomach of the soul

Is a sucker for sick sing-song scenes

But oh, Daughter

I do love the banter

It will carry us through

And wrap our knuckles

With irreverence

In the best way

My fine boy

Wisk away

Wisk away comfort

The notion of it

With a flick of your wrist

It is not

I repeat, is not

A necessary thing

No

It is rather

An overused comma

A nervous um

Highlighted incessantly

As the big hand is here

And the little hand is now

So many needless things

Are a civilation’s whimsy

And their total shame

A civilization’s giggle

And their epitaph

Such is comfort

Oh King Comfort

Oh Lord Me

Boy, hear me

This place is too torched

And the end is too near

For you to think

Of comfortable things

Would you just please

Dunk yourself seven times

Get muddy

Get wet

Wash

Sing and play and lead

Dont microphone the kid

Any longer

You squeaky thing

Be brave and do yout job

Your comfort

Has never been required

 

 

Who’s my one

To help the one

Thats the charge

Sail out

With a gale force wind

And paint them all

With the common good

One at a time

Until all that is good

Meets all that is grace

Counting by ones

He said he cheated

His face twisted like he cared

His voice raised like he didn’t

Then she

According to him

Cheated on him

According to him

And his voice raised again

On one hand

Why do we care

But on the other

His voice raised

Interesting

It seems

He thinks

Its delicious

Either way

Notice

That that’s

A boy

Who ain’t done playing

His hurt don’t ache

Coming or going

You purchased something great

I hope it was worth the sacrifice

Stick to your guns

Cause others won’t get it

Cause chairs would never turn

But it seems you know

Each and every interaction

Unique and irreplaceable

Including the ones

With the boy

With the brown eyes

With the overbite

Including the ones

With the liar

And the loon

And the torn muscle

You split the nails anyway

Tore the cloth

To stutter a rapid fire

Lilting lovely eulogy

To end the transaction

On a tree

 

Portland

I enjoyed you

Scary as you are

I walked you

And saw how smart you are

That living room

Brilliant

Wish that I had seen the ocean

But ‘twas the beginning

Of lethargy

And the Indian and the tattooed man

Could both lift right out

There was a strained awe

As I was dogged and hassled

I’ll return freer than then

I promise

And I’ll  sing with you

Not for some time now

Have I crucified and tied

And stapled or flayed

Have I taken you by surprise

Have I seen the slight

And I know it is not

Simply the passing of time

But grace with a washcloth

And a page turn

Yes, and the turner grows me

That I could still find bliss

As a dreamer of demise

Yet thrill more and more

In simply drifting off to sleep

With books and white noise

Is itself the pitter-patter

 

 

 

 

A lake

right now

i want it

me

alone

with a breeze

and nowhere to be

and let’s suppose

that it’s the day after

that great party

where we all gathered

to celebrate

what should be celebrated

that made good sense

out of all we worked so hard for

together

and suppose there was only one song

one really fitting song

that summed it all up

that feeling that

nothing is for our glory

nothing is for our notice

that party for salvation

and life lived high

and pennies from heaven

to the ones who used to be poor

and there would be snow cones

bright and sweet and red and blue

and children would run

and giggle and bubble

with wide-eyed glee

and the only thing

we knew for sure

was pressing gratitude

and we would laugh

at the comedy

of the sheer number

of thank you’s

that we said over and over

anyway

i want to nap there

at the lake

and write

swim

and later

build a fire

with my wife and kids

and a few friends

 

A pinching

not so bad

that you must stop it

though everyone says you should

and says how you should

and that they would

but history coughs

”Liars”

cause they would never

cause their advice

simply acknowledges

your tenaciousness,

not the absence of their own

and truth be told

they don’t know

what they would do

cause

if push came to shove though

they’d live with it

let it go

meander on and on

with the pinch

like a friend

 

 

the bane of my existence

the one who would fail

every matching test

matching questions to answers

like “where would you like to eat?”

they match it with

“She yelled at me”

or “what’s the matter?”

they say, “Blue, then green”.

and I think

all the live-long-day

what did you hear

what question did you hear

is it right or fair that I

or any other must burn wood

to be curious about you

but you can’t be in the room at all

how do we dance

when you’re writing

how do we run

when you’re knitting

there must be

a great deal

of self-involvement

to be such an ignorer

and dodger