A Green Recipe

It may be time for oil barons to be boiled.
Add vegetable politicians, julienne or chopped,
dice up a few judges, add garlic and salt.
Simmer and spice with cloves of lawyer tongues,
stir in all-media seasoning till it tastes dollar free.
Obviously, can’t do this, but it’s appetite for thought.

She Is What She Is

Her sleek outline curves from stern to bow
like a smile, friendly, with a red gunwale gloss,
wet and glistening, inviting sunrise to a kiss.
She isn’t a faithful lover: the sea slips
its smooth hand down the belly of her keel;
the breath of a passionate night to come
whispers in the taut cables of her mast.

Religion

Religion, as a word in Scrabble,
has very little value at all.
In the overall schemes of two-legged beasts,
its worth is incalculable in dollars and cents.
In the bony shadows of widows, and protruding
bellies of orphans stuffed from breasts of air,
its purity is proven when the lest of these are fed.

Waltzing With A Dream

I plan someday to stop working,
not today, but, hopefully not too far off.
Sit on my porch, and watch the sun, clouds,
wind and rain paint miracles across the sky.
Of course it’s part of our culture to retire,
go fishing, play golf and eat peanut butter
and banana sandwiches whenever we like
(take a handful of pills for eating whatever/
whenever we like, too). I, also, want to write;
write words that have the flavor of a juicy apple,
where the dripping sweetness to the last bite
leaves you with the seeds of more to come.
It’s a dream, a hologram of thoughts that spin
like animated dancers in a waltz that may never be.

Miss October

The temps here have started
taking off their steamy attire for Fall.
It’s been a long Summer tease, but
we’re getting ready to crawl under the covers,
and snuggle-up through the night
with a calendar babe of color.