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HERE’S TO THE DAD

PLAYING TIJUANA BRASS AS LOUDLY AS I CAN

IN HONOR OF OUR SOMETIMES CROSS-EYED, LONG GONE OL’ MAN

HERE’S TO THE “HARKS!” THE OCCASIONAL EYAH,

ALL THE LOVELY FLOWERS FROM HAWAI-YAH

CHEAP RED WINE; FRESH, HOT BREAD

ARM WRESTLING NIGHTS WITH STEVE AND WITH TED

WINNING KITES MADE WITH BOB

SLURPY DINNERS WITH CORN ON THE COB

ERIC ON HIS SHOULDERS AS THEY “WALKED THE RANCH,”

LOUD, LOUD MUSIC THAT MADE US ALL DANCE

LOUD GUITAR STRUMMIN’,

MOM ALWAYS HUMMIN’

TOUGH AS NUTS, BUT A SOFT OL’ TOUCH

WE COULD MAKE HIM MAD, BUT NOT TOO MUCH

AS ONE OF HIS GIRLS, ROX, MAG, RUTH

I’LL TELL YOU THE TRUTH

HE WAS PRETTY DAMNED COOL

SOMETIMES ACTED THE FOOL

BUT ONLY TO GET US TO STOP OUR MOPING

I’M SURE WE BECAME THE PEOPLE FOR WHICH MOM AND HE WERE HOPING

SO IT’S ALL GOOD

LET’S SHARE SOME GOOD FOOD

AND A LAUGH OR TOO

AND RAISE A GLASS OF HOMBRE

THAT’S IT

I’M DONE…

HOT SUN DAY

Emil Catt staring at the hole in the wall;
mesmerized by the possible appearance of a bunny;
bombarded by an angry mama bluebird,
which makes no bones about claiming the crusts of bread
I tossed out beneath the apple tree on my little hill.
Emil does not want your crust of bread, Mama…
He wants rabbit for dinner.
6/7/17

MEMORIAL DAY, 2017

I could not find you today, James.

Too many flags. Too many headstones. Too many names.

I thought I would never forget just where they placed you.

Near the flag pole above the lake, with all proper ado,

Among others from the Gulf and other wars

With a view of the beautiful, wide outdoors

below ye.

You were, and are loved, my dear young friend;

You worked hard to make good, then went ’round the bend.

You died much too early at your very own hand

in a blast to your head from your pistol; a broken man,

while your bitch of a wife stood yelling how unfair you were to her.

You went to war, but it was always, always all about her.

I could go on…

but I really only wanted to say I couldn’t find you today,

but I looked… I looked… and I still pray

for the repose of your soul, that your heart has healed;

the full purpose of your life finally revealed.

Some say suicide is a coward’s way out,

but knowing you, I have no doubt

it was your perfect solution for all your pain.

I cannot find fault in your accurate aim,

though I selfishly wish you’d missed.

***

Peace be with you, James Edmond, USAF

 

DAMN!

Damn, it’s a beautiful day!

Cloudless crystal blue skies and crisp, cool air

Lush green lawns soaking up what’s left of the snow

Pretty young woman swinging in her polka dot dress along South Broadway

Chickadees, robins, and doves noising up the trees

White capped mountains calling “get your *ss up here!”

Harmonizing with ol’ John Denver singing and strumming on the CD

Life is GOOD!

Life is good…

yes, it is

 

5/4/17

QUAGMIRE

Have you noticed the similarity of words used to describe a swamp?

Sog, bog, slog…

My shoes grew soggy as I slogged through the bog in the open space.

Muck, suck, duck…

The duck was sucked into the muck before he knew what was happening

I’ll have to keep working on this one..

 

MAY DAY, 2017

May our hearts be lighter as the days grow brighter.
May all our cares be few.
May we all find joy, as we employ
our best in all we do.
5/1/17

EMIL CATT IN THE OFFICE

Emil, the demon catt
is well into spring insanity
he wakes up galloping ’round the room
and jumping on the vanity
faster than a rolling “O”
he dashes out the door
then sits outside yowling horribly
to come back in for more
just now I could not find him
we’d just finished up our lunch
doors shut tightly, windows closed
I had not the slightest hunch
just where he might be hiding
plotting a stealth attack
so I could not simply sit, relax,
with him somewhere at my back
I called and whistled for him
smooched and shook the treats
but ’twas as though he disappeared
from bathroom, beds and seats
I must get back to work, I said
as loudly as I could
expecting him to understand
and to be very, very good
I sat down at my work space
adjusted my new IKEA chair
hit the keyboard, sat comfortably back to think,
then felt his mesmeric stare
OKAY! says I, where are you!
he let out no replies
I stood up abruptly, gave a growl,
and saw his golden eyes
half shuddered, yet absolutely, fully aware,
his whiskers slightly quivered
then he slowly lowered his head and hair
behind my computer screen…
 
 
to be continued…

HE DIED ONLY LAST WEEK

Snow watered tulips

pushing through winter compost.

Signs of life! So rude.

QUICKLY

After Tuesday’s snow –

heavy, wet, breaking branches –

Wednesday’s sun was sweet.

 

AHHH

oh, what of the clouds building over Mt. Evans…

here at the light on County Line at Quebec

the sky is clear

the sun is etching new lines ’round my eyes

and for this thirty seconds

nothing in the world is off kilter

***

…oh, quit your honking!

rJo  2/4/17