April 1, 2019
How to Be a Successful Insomniac
Start by laying in bed watching reruns of The Good Wife
falling asleep before the ending
but somehow waking up 8 minutes after the hour
as the next show begins
the one you don’t really like
because there’s too much talk about God
Turn off the TV in a haze
lie awake thinking about the bills
the client who has yet to pay you
and why you volunteer too much
wonder how you will fit it all in
and wishing for a vacation
on a remote island
Get up to feed the cat number one
meowing for food at 2 am
parceling out just enough to
prevent hairball stomach
make room for cat number two
on your pillow
making sure your head fits on the corner
Toss and turn, swearing you will
not turn the TV on again
but you give up and end up
watching a boring rerun of a
detective show about a fat PI
and wonder how anyone thought
he would make a good character
when he can’t even run after
the bad guy without having
a heart attack
Give up.
Decide to sleep in late
Wake up at 7 am anyway
Maybe sleep with come tomorrow.
April 2, 2019
Always
after “Always Alone,” by Linda Gregg
There was a place
a narrow street
where I waited
on top of the mountain
a bottle of water
on a step
in the shade.
I watched
the fishing boats.
the fisherman sat idle
I looked away
to another.
I felt the goddess
her absence ancient shards
negotiating for my soul
with the Earth.
what love is.
It was evening, tired
I would watch the boats
consider the mountain
take a fragment
from my bag
my drinking water there
the black glaze
the shadow of a flower
part of a maiden
the pleasure of the thing
still a secret.
April 3, 2019
Alone (Reverse)
after “Always Alone,” by Linda Gregg
It was not important.
next to the sea in the town
for the bus to take me
back up to my house
I would sit across from the wharf
if I was lucky
Beaten-up, tied to the pier,
sold their catch alongside
or on the decks
something cooking on small grills
mostly mountain where I used walk
so often finding
leftover facts
reconciling with always alone,
usually tired
Hear the Aegean,
that I had been intimate with
sometimes I would
and spit on it. Or splash
on the last of it to see
if anything was
maybe a piece of classical
or maybe even a whole
April 4, 2019
Every once in a while
out of the corner of my eye
something flits.
I turn quickly
thinking it’s my cat
chasing a summer fly
but nothing is there.
I read once that these
are the shadow people
the essence of those
chosen to watch over me.
The scientist rolls his eyes
tells me it’s lack of sleep
or anxiety
mumbles something about
peripheral vision
I want to believe in that shadow
the one who comforts me
as I go about my day
April 5, 2019
Head Lines
after “Diaspora: A Narcolepsy Hymn” by Kyle Dargan
It was all a dream
waiting for asylum
the latest in military strategy
is not being country enough.
And that noise?
Just the neighbors
digging in the basement
while the director holds my data hostage.
Don’t joke about hugging
and then offer a mixed apology.
Mick Jagger underwent heart surgery
strives for greater fame
and thinks his family is modern.
But first,
the Sultan of Brunei
wades into culture wars.
and goes inside the nerve-racking world of catering.
It was like we were in love in another life.
What do we have to hold onto
when I wake up like this?
April 6, 2019
When Harry Didn’t Meet Sally
You realize that we can never be friends
Yes, that’s right,
we can’t be friends.
I can’t understand why
we need to be friends
the pressure doesn’t work
You look like a normal person
but you’re actually the angel of death.
It’s the same dream I’ve been having
since I was twelve.
Somewhere out there is the man
you are supposed to marry.
If you don’t get him first
somebody else will.
Something is missing
Nothing is missing.
Who the hell are we kidding?
Men and women can’t be friends
all men are sure of it
all women have done it
you do the math.
April 7, 2019
He rambles on
saying all the wrong things
even his best advice
doesn’t arrive on time
all speed
no grace
he’s just passing through
visiting with people
for a moment
his ears overflowing
with the litter
of their tiny minds
and their titanic problems
massive amounts of energy
swirling, revolving
through the door
of humanity
no more settled
than the day before
April 8, 2019
No One Makes It Out
Pizarro encountered human sacrifice,
circling the drain
John, facing increasing opposition from the nobility,
passed on
Ivan the Terrible, tragic but degenerate,
resting in peace
Tudor propagandists who exaggerated,
slipped away
Omar, who was assassinated,
lost the battle
Wellesley, born in Dublin,
sleeping with the fishes
Nelson, made a viscount,
gave up the ghost
Toulouse-Lautrec, famous for his lithographs,
kicked the bucket
Talleyrand lived lavishly, courted bribes,
breathed his last
John Paul Jones, engaged by the Russian Empress,
in a better place
And Elizabeth I, with her desperate childhood,
was called home
April 9, 2019
Splendid Things
after Sei Shonagon’s Pillow Book
The first pink buds of Spring. A squirrel running along the deck railing in search of food.
The greenness of the grass after a week of rain and the sun shines. It reminds me of Wales and sheep on the hills.
Fried potatoes on a Sunday morning, especially when accompanied by friends and hot coffee.
Stained glass in an old church, even though one is against organized religion, you know it is a holy place.
Birthday presents, ice cream, and chocolate cake.
Cats sleeping on bed pillows.
A full moon on a clear night when you can see the stars. The feeling that you are part of it.
April 10, 2019
Breaking Point
The immigration system has reached a breaking point.
Me too.
For years there have been warnings.
Gale-force.
Both political parties have tried, and failed.
They clearly needed more wine.
First-ever picture of a black hole revealed
It was a selfie.
Images of the darkest entities have finally been captured.
They posted them to Instagram.
It was the first intimate look inside a violent phenomenon.
Someone called the #MeToo movement.
The National Enquirer is for sale.
Inquiring minds want to know.
The hedge funder is growing uncomfortable.
He needs better underwear.
Mr. Pecker helped Mr. Trump.
That’s what she said.
April 11, 2019
Origin Story
New Yorker
more at home in Old York
Jewish blood
no connection to their misogynist god
Suburban high school
out of place among roaming groups privileged white children
College in the country
living through ice storms and dorm parties
City girl
living off-off-off-off-off-off Broadway in Texas
Pacific Northwest transplant
stuffing down East Coast self now out of place
Welsh immigrant
living in an ancient castle town
Return of the native
exile in America
Next destination
places unknown
April 12, 2019
Ode to a Magnifying Glass
I see through you.
Not as clearly as you see through me.
Everything seems larger when you’re around.
Bigger than life.
You always know how to bring things into focus.
I move you around, looking for answers, seeking clarity,
but somehow you manage to keep your secrets to yourself.
You know just when to blur your words here, or expand your thoughts there.
Round and fat as you are,
you always seem to have a handle on things.
I wish I could see things as clearly as you do.