the final etching…

each day
he entered
his studio
like
a man
pushing his way
onto
a subway car
back arched
with
determined steps
and
each day
he followed
the same routines
he arranged
papers
and
pencils
for
his
personal project
then
proceeded
to do
the commercial
etchings
that paid the bills
taking small breaks
to make
sketches
for his
real
artistic project
but
turning quickly
from
such daydreams
to
the real work at hand
by day’s end
he had erased
the sketches
never good enough
the years
soon
took their toll
on his hands
and
he retired
was
a winter’s morning
when he entered
his studio
inspired
by a night’s vision
he began to sketch
what
had escaped him
all these years
he was found
slumped over
an
unfinished drawing

portrait of a man sitting outside in his underwear in yuma…

his eyes
follow her
unkept promises
to
another
mere
coins
tossed into
a wishing well
wishes
that cannot
nor
should be
granted
for they
are
faded memories
of
youth
so
faded
that they are
unrecognizable
without
the worn pages
of
a yearbook
pages
providing a list
for
deciphering
the names
neatly
printed
with
a small
font
in
the obituary column
a column
he
now reviews
daily
a routine
to give meaning
to days
squandered
calculating the odds
of
his
own demise

neo-babylonian walls …

these walls are not firm
they’re built with honor’s promises
freedom’s building stones
mortared just by history
and history’s forgotten

ain’t no alternate constitution for charges of treason…

the brown bag prophet
stopped me
and
said
all this discussion
about
people not
applauding
the president’s
incoherent ramblings
the other night
ramblings
leaving
most of them
stunned
in their seats
seems
to be
as they like
to say
a gross misrepresentation
for
this ain’t about
protocol
it’s about
freedom
see
for
those folks
in
washington
that
ain’t read
the constitution
i ain’t gotta
stand
applaud
or
yell out
sieg heil
when the
president
say something stupid
or
presents some alternate fact
and
it
sure ain’t
un-american
to resist tyranny
but
what
is
un-american
and
treasonous
is to
attempt
to subjugate
the people
of this nation
with
a political dogma
of
blind allegiance
to
a single person
instead
of
true
open-minded allegiance
to
the nation
and
to its people
wonder why
they don’t put
that
in
a memo

star chart…

aunt bea
said
i have
a small jar
of
gold stars
on
my office shelf
each
one
represents
someone
i’ve loved
or
grew up with
when
a friend
passes on
i
place their star
on
a picture
of
the night sky
in
my bedroom
and
though
the jar
grows
empty
and
my loneliness
grows
i see
the heavens
full
of stars
when
i rest my head
at night
and
that
gives
me
hope