Bye Bye October

 

First of November, hello colder weather,

we know that snow is around the corner;

even though we dread that day!

But we’ll get used to it straightaway...

The crud is moving in,

we’ll take it on the chin,

food and feasts will warm the indoors,

Convivial surroundings following chores.

One is amazed at how time flies,

yesterday summer heat made us cry.

Soon white flurries will populate the air,

slicken up the ground, and decorate our hair.

The bag of salt is nearby,

a steel shovel stands ready.

The car oil is all changed,

spare battery in close range.

Just another winter in the Midwest,

putting hardy souls again to the test;

We will get through it and do our best,

spring’s green warmth reward us like all the rest.

I’ll see people soon that have been obscured all year,

with shovels and snowblowers to dispel the winter fears.

We’ll push each others’ cars out, send them on their way,

cheer another February snowstorm’s failure to ruin our day.

Brace yourselves – here it comes….

Winter 2021.

Light Shines Through my Amber Prison

 

“We are stuck in the tree-sap of time, and it is hardening around us.”

I am driving on a highway,

rain is pouring down in buckets,

hail clatters against my windshield.

I think of time and timing,

how yesterday or tomorrow it will be clear,

smooth driving, the sun will be out;

It is all just a matter of when you are where!

How long will it take humans to get to Mars?

How bored will we all get after the feat is done?

All that money and exertion and risk and sweat,

and once the gap is bridged, the span is covered,

we’ll all go back to our lesser entertainments,

and be offended by minutia once again.

The world gets so noisy and chaotic at times,

then at others goes strangely quiet,

taking a breath and tensing before the

next leap forward, in clash and crash.

The hair turns white but cheeks still

glow red, as long as life resides within.

What temporal buttons can one push to

experience those apex points of life again?

I would settle for a good strong echo most times --

Precise small changes to effect the larger results.

While breath still puffs in and out,

blood still courses through the veins,

muscles still flex and exert,

then hope still burns within,

and perhaps tomorrow will be a better day.

Dodge the Paranoia

 

The pandemic is receding?

Things getting better,

more jobs are around?

Don’t celebrate just yet.

Now for some reason,

all of a sudden,

there is a shortage of truck drivers,

gas prices are spiking upward,

things are running out all over,

scarcities are popping up

like so many leftover

Covid Demons.

What is to become of us?

We just lurch through one crisis

only to get dumped headlong into

the next quagmire – stagflation.

The media respond “Be afraid, be very afraid”

the usual refrain.

But here is a cute puppy picture,

so you will feel a little better,

never mind that gut-pit of anxiety,

the one that will follow you the rest

of the day, week or month.

Time to stop paying attention,

enjoy the good graces and gifts received,

And move on down the lane of life,

try to ignore the ogres of paranoia

that lurk around every corner.

Bring on the Next Decade

 

So glad I made it here,

Fun and whimsy clear.

Once upon a country...

Nixon was impeached,

then the press threw peaches,

Ford stumbled through the pardon.

“Whip inflation now!”,

and pet rocks became the rage.

Ten-four good buddy, silver antennae

sprouted like weeds, “Breaker Breaker!”

what fun we had on the CB radios.

Star Wars TV specials floated by,

Love Boat and Charlies Angles,

Dallas and Dynasty ruled the three-channel airwaves.

"Heeeeereees Johnny!" was never far behind,

Jimmy Carter got in, peanut farmer took over.

Billy Beer and “Stop having fun!” and we were

all “Hell no, we’re just getting started!”

Gas crunches caused some tiny car crazes.

Hostage crises and Papal visits,

Old movie star took the White House from

that peanut farmer, then it was “morning in America,”

(but mourning for unions and the working class?)

Fun still occurred, keeping pace – New Wave,

Punk and the MTV generation. Prince rained purple

on our Walkmans – designer drugs, and Raves galore.

We moved on to post-punk, grunge, hip-hop, more grunge,

garage bands and EDM and DJ ‘everybody’ waving their hands.

Somewhere along popular culture’s way,

Personal computers joined the consumer fray

The Internet followed close behind,

with a steep learning curve – at first,

but then, Mega-Free Everything!

Feeding frenzies broke out in Wall Street and

Usenet Newsgroups alike.

It was a lot of fun, and rarely dull –

One had to brush off a vicious flame at times,

but the freebie photos and music were worth it.

Now hanging out in the 2020’s.

With all the fusion country-pop-hick-hop,

hard to make any sense of categories.

(Thanks a lot, Lil Nas X)

But it does not matter -

just enjoy the music and the ride.

We are still alive, and that is what counts the most.

Half-price off at the (printed) word sale

 

Perfidious hordes scatter across Europe,

bearing the dominant religious standards.

Business 101, dusting off your shelves,

arranging your products, hanging out the sign.

Snaps – commentary on modern culture!

Hobbies large and small, cheap or expensive.

You can find it all here, and more,

at the local printed word sale -

just over there at the Fairgrounds.

But be ready to dodge and weave through

a lot of traffic, vehicular and human too.

It is so worth it.

Treatises from the early 1900's intermingle

with Lee Iococca autobiographies,

fantasy epics and scientific war volumes,

cookbooks your mother would have loved,

stitching and weaving and collecting,

every human endeavor, dream, fantasy or wish

is probably sitting somewhere on a table –

or more likely, in someone's tote bag.

One can go vowing to “just look around”

“Maybe pick up one or two”

Yep, they have heard that one before.

And before one knows it, there is a stack of books

between the arms, with the eyes scanning

around for an empty shopping bin or cart.

Then, after enduring the line to pay up,

you get to lug your treasures out to

a distant pasture to load up the car.

When you get home, it is time to dig in,

see what goodies you can't wait to skim.

Another fun year at the local Printed

Word Sale.      Life is complete,

until they all get read.   

then it is

time to re-donate them!

Automatic War - Version Now

Drones kill silently from the air,

robots slug it out on the ground.

National strategies pursued from afar,

Collateral damage scattered all around.

Us human beings will never learn,

instead impart war ability to cyborgs.

A peaceful time is what many yearn

for, but then give in to baser hormones.

What values are either good or evil?

Which side is ever always right?

It is always our religious and civil

philosophy vs their reason to fight?

Yet in our abodes surrounded by loved ones,

we set aside conflict, a brief peace hard-won.

(Reprint - Originally published in Lyrical Iowa 2021)

For the Mechanics

 

Some operating rooms take up more space than others,

they may even need dedicated buildings all their own.

Those huge city trucks, lumbering apparatuses,

Go out in the hidden places and take care of us,

all manner of vehicles to sweep our streets,

pick up our recyclables and trash,

maintain light poles and manholes and traffic lights.

But sometimes our caretakers break down;

then they need some delicate doctoring

and loving care themselves.

So they lumber into a huge garage,

open giant maws up to the mech techs.

Tilted-over cabs, or raised fronts,

side accesses, or raised up on lifts.

Missing tires as axles are massaged,

reconstructed gearboxes, transmissions

opened up like any given heart surgery.

Could an operating room show as many

bared innards, exposed gear guts?

Fluid pans all over, oil dispensers

hover in thickets on cables and pulleys,

ready to dispense some life-giving elixir,

just the liquid to give a tired motor a lift.

Surgery finished, they are piloted out of

the operating theater and parked nearby.

Now repaired, refreshed, and ready to roll.

With an engine roar, a squeal of brakes,

some assorted rumblings (of gratitude?),

they all head out to do their duty,

our dirty work – and we are glad.