there must be something wrong..

that clock
on
the wall
doesn’t seem
to
move
at all
i’ve been sitting here
for
an eternity
listening
and watching
that
clock
on the wall
and
it hasn’t moved
one
quarter
of
an inch
while
the out pouring of words
seems
quite
disproportionate
to
the
time that passed
i’ve swung
my feet
in every possible direction
while
posed
upon
this pew
and
been told
by
mom
to
just
sit still
until
the sermons
done
but
it seems to me
he’s attempting
to
recreate
what god
took
six days
to
do
why can’t
we
just
cut to the chase
and
get
to that final
amen

 

office of the former…

honey
everybody
who’s got fired
from
their job
during
the pandemic
is
setting up offices
to replace
the one
they got terminated from
and
it don’t take
any
creativity
to
name the new office
just
add
former
to the title
like
office of
the former
talent delivery specialist
office of
the
former
snake milker
or
chick sexer
child
i’m telling you
this could be
the tax write off
you’ve been
looking
for
and
if you set it up
as
a nonprofit
you
could keep
all
the profits

little lamb has gone astray…

no where to be found
not a speck of it
absolutely nil
there’s nothing in sight
as far as the eye can see
weeks ago there it was
but once dollars were flowing
it suddenly disappeared
oh moral courage
lost in the senate

 

christmas eve spies…

such clever
children
to
subtly suggest
that
the christmas tree
be situated
just
below
that old floor vent
a vent
that
from
the second floor
became
a perfect
christmas eve
observation post
for
viewing
those
unwrapped presents
too large
to
fit
beneath the tree
wagons
bikes
and
such
one merely needed
to pretend
that
sugar plums
were
dancing
before
silently
initiating
the night’s reconnaissance mission
a fool proof plan
until
secret agent mom
closed
the vent

 

ladies’ meeting

jackie
and
several
of
her
nighttime
hotel lobby
friends
were overheard
discussing
the flood
of
denials
offered
from
the white house
jackie said
honey
i’m telling you
ain’t no way
a voluptuous woman
gonna
voluntarily
be chased
around
a bedroom
by
a fat white man
in
his underwear
even if
he’s
the president
of
these
united states
meeting
adjourned

 

locker room talk…

watching
a football game
where
players
dutifully wore
masks
on the sideline
but
not
when
they were
engaged
in
hand to hand combat
made me
consider
sideline masks
as symbols
you know
like
a wedding ring
is
a symbol
fidelity
but
it’s only symbol
we’ve clearly seen that
in
the behavior
of
our current president
whose escapades
are
the subject of
numerous law suites
from
women
other than
his wife
then i recalled
high school locker rooms
where
one’s physical deficiencies
were
clearly exposed
in those
mandatory
gym classes
and
wondered
how do you shower
in a mask
and
if you can’t
maybe you’re
not only
exposed
but
being
exposed

 

quarantine…


i suppose

out

of

a level

of

self pity

i called

aunt bea

to

see

how she was doing

without

visiting

her friends

and

to

lightheartedly

complain

about

my imposed celibacy

aunt bea

gave a giggle

and said

well

a number

of

my old friends

have

a hard time

getting around

these days

so

visits

were

infrequent

before the pandemic

and

as for your

celibacy

you’ll find

there comes

a point

in

aging

when

passionate romance

becomes

a mere memory