Work In Progress “’How now, this smoking no longer serves. Oh, my pipe! Hard it must go with me if thy charm be gone! … What business have I with this pipe? I’ll smoke no more-‘ He tossed the still lighted pipe into the sea.’” Herman Melville, Moby-Dick, Chapter XXX “Abstainer: A weak person who
May Morning Pleats and folds of cloud hang across the sky washed blue now the storm is over.
Late April Lament T.S. Eliot’s right: April’s cruel. But not in the sense that he meant. This month didn’t wake us. Instead, it may take us Till May for the snow to relent.
Requiem We owe life a death. I dare to hope that mine is Like a leaf’s in fall.
Drumph I’ve never seen the Mango Don. I’d sooner flee than see him. For he’s a liar and a con, And I’d rather see than be him. – after Garett Burgess’s “Purple Cow” poem
Medical Opinions (sung to the tune of The Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit”) One doc says I’m OK. Another says I’m ill. And a third prescribes a magic pill To make pain go away. A fourth one says I need a stent For one aorta’s frail, And a surgeon says my back hurts Because a disc
Early April Ever approaching spring. Never quite getting there. But coming closer.
The Hole In The Bucket I first heard Pete Seeger and Odetta sing this classic song of male ineptitude back in the 1960s. As his questions got dumber and dumber, she got more and more impatient, until finally she was shouting at him. But he had the last word. “There’s a hole in the bucket,
POLS They claim to be trying to fix The worst of our country’s malfunctions When they come up with ploys and neat tricks, But they are devoid of compunction. All they want is to cling to their seats, So they concentrate on re-election, Using fund-raising rallies and tweets And practicing mass misdirection. In the end,
Deep Freeze The snow has melted But I am still cold inside. When will my spring come?