The Poetry Marathon

Autobiography of a Face

As I look at my Bosco eyes,

As I look at my crescent nose,

As I look at my snail-shell ears,

As I look at my piano-key smile,

I realize that I’m as delectable as chocolate,

as magical as the moon,

as patient as a garden mollusk,

and as sanguine as a song.

The Mathematics of Faith

Calculate how long you will live without Googling it. Will you survive until you’re 80? Will you make it past your next doctor’s visit this coming Wednesday? You remember that your sister and mother died when they were younger than you are now. You look forward to meals out with your spouse in expensive seafood restaurants you’ve haven’t been to yet. You have less time for outdoor physical recreation now that you must visit each one of your doctors more often. At night you dream about the jobs you once held during your lifetime and wonder why they are so nightmarish. You are thankful for the opportunities you have to write memoirs and fiction and poetry and read aloud in front of an audience. You are thankful to those who read and respond to and inspire your writing. You are thankful that you are still productive, neither stagnating, nor despairing.

Tell Us Something We Don’t Know

We need more money for education.

We need less money for political campaigning.

We need to think carefully about going to war.

We need to think more carefully about keeping the peace.

We need fewer forms of carbon-based energy sources.

We need more solar and wind and geothermal energy sources.

We need fewer bureaucrats and autocrats.

We need more independent thinkers and voters.

We need improved infrastructure.

We need fewer potholes.

We need committed parents.

We need to look out for one another’s children.

We need timely, affordable health care.

We need more taxes.

We need fewer taxes.

creamy white fungi

grow on lone, leafless branches

of chaos-theory fig trees

in mid-April: spring weather

arrives late this year

My Dog, Alfred

Fashioning himself as a gangsta, Alfred

Hitchcock wears his gray hoodie whenever

I take him for a walk through our local

grave yard. He enjoys peeing on tombstones.

An intimidating terrior with

penetrating eyes and monolithic

Easter-Island ears, he refrains from barking,

never smiles, and takes pride in the way

his gray whiskers highlight his black coat. He

lives in his own monochromatic world.

An introvert by nature, he cares not

for human intercourse. Do not pet him.

A High-School Junior’s Prescription for Pimples

Take one each night before bedtime:

SAT score

College application

Grant application

Loan application

Acceptance letter

Rejection letter

Career Counselor Conference

Decision: commuting or residing on campus

Decision: community college or four-year university

Choosing a major

Finding a job

Saving money

Incurring Debt

Dealing with parents

Losing best friends

Late-Night Talk Show

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you. Thank you.

What a great crowd. Not like last night’s.

We have a wonderful show for you tonight.

Speaking of the President, have you seen his ratings lately?

Where are you from? Indiana? How do you like New York?

Tonight’s Top Ten Thank-You Notes are…

Our first guest has a movie coming out this Friday.

You look great!

How much fun was it to work with her?

Here. Watch this clip.

Do you like to play Pictionary?

Thanks for being such a good sport.

Do you like animals?

Don’t bring that octopus near me. Take it away, please.

Do you like to laugh? Well, we’ve got a very funny man here tonight. Please welcome…

On my way here tonight I got stuck in this L.A. traffic.

And how ‘bout those airlines.

Our guest will be doing his stand-up at The Comedy Basement this Friday and Saturday in Athens Georgia. So if you’re in town…

Finally, tonight’s musical guest has just returned from their tour of Europe and Japan. Please welcome…

Stay tuned. We’ll be right back.

Thanks for watching.

Striper Fishing Doggerel

Early morning

Rods and reels

Eggs and grits

Clams and eels

Boat’s all ready

Motor starts

Out of slip

Old-man farts

Anchor up

Drop lines down

Wait for bite

Love the sound

Hear the run off

Striper bite

Taking bait

Sealing Fate

Treasure Island: A Memo

Sail to work, dock at your cubicle, and salute your colleagues with a friendly, “Good morning.”

Continue your intimate relationship with your computer screen, answer every overseas e-mail, and help your clients navigate their bank accounts.

Lunch at your desk. Swallow your tuna-salad-on-white-bread sandwich.

Work into the soft moonlight — no after-hours fun.

Be captain of your ship.

Before you leave tonight, don’t forget to submit your quarterly Self-Evaluation. Be honest.

Regards,

CFO

Flat Fish

As I peer up at his boat, Caliban,

through the warming late spring waters of this

New Jersey back bay, I see his lucent

line descend. His chartreuse jig bumps along

bottom mussel beds as he persuades me

to lunch with him. The immortal current

slows as high tide approaches. He thinks I swim

in unfamiliar waters, but not so:

I have slipped along these bottom sands

through its cuts and channels for centuries,

surviving Nor’easters, water spouts,

predators — and Shakespearean tempests.