There used to be
a Blatz sign above
a bar that had
a deer park attached
that my dad would
take us to on
Saturday afternoons when I
was a kid men
smoked cigars there and
now as I smoke
one outside on this
Colorado summer morning the
wind in the leaves
make the same sound
as the tinkling of
that Blatz sign and
though I’m thousands of
miles away I’m not
I really am not
Category: Creativity
IAmMyFather
Well I went out
with a hurrah much
less hurrah and much
more fizzle I never
knew that I was
an angry bitter old
man who knew that
I became my father
Maybe life does that
shows you as a
child just what you’re
likely to be old
I guess it’s true
I am my father
MountainMorning
I sit on the
balcony of my apartment
and see the buildings
of downtown beam in
the distance the morning
is late June warm
not yet hot no
longer cool just right
to take in this
morning in the mountains
HopeFully
Hope does not live
in the stroke stroke
stroke of the oar
or the step step
step of the march
Hope is purposefully absent
there being reserved for
the beginning when dreams
are born and carried
in hearts of men
doing the rowing or
doing the marching hope
does not live in
the mundane of life
hope lives in dreams
NotMe (for Gil)
I’m not the one
that you’re afraid of
oh I know that
you want to make
it me because it’s
easier than admitting who
but we both know
that it truly isn’t
and until you do
finally admit just who
you will never ever
let me get any
closer to you than
over here at arms
length close enough to
touch not to hold
