Poems

Drunk Russian passed out at his post,

miraculously working from ignorance

A family of four sneaks right past him,

gifting Ukrainian wins in this instance

Death's upon my doorsteps,

she's down in my commodes

a proof's within her pudding

here revealed inside my load

You'd think these situations, 

now showing so damned dire

would prove an end's nearing

can only hope this fact's a liar

We made sixty, wait for it

small bites lettuce catsup

Once age has been ripped by the years,

all selfish isms have retired to the roost

all that matters are babies & good food

don't believe me & you flunked the test

My love for you is bigger

I promise it's hugely real

niece, nephew el grande,

let me profess how I feel

No words can bestow honor

to the feeling I've got inside

love for you both is a quiver

of gratitude tears in my eyes

That boy gives me the giggles,

that boy puts a joy in my heart

his aura bequeaths me reasons

affections for him never depart

As in being on razor blades

one side sharp like icebergs

others as worn out cleavers

yet the dull ends aren't lost

a crooked edge can be fixed

because of what writers say

begetting what Newt speaks

we all can make things right

The squirrel eating a mango,

open switchblade in one paw

tells me squirrelly real greedy

yes there be malice in its claw

I don't know maybe chipmunk

he will share his fruit with folk

but not seeing such a painting

still quite enjoy Sciuridae joke

The clank of a cutting board 

against steely stainless sinks

clink of forks, knives, spoons

settling into one dish drainer

a tired mother barking orders

sad dogs wailing solo anguish

dads baby talking at newborns

little kid's voicing happy plays 

these the grand sounding outs

of good neighborhood's noises

No times for we to waste,

so please let's all do right

and write us lots of poems

many as humanly possible

Where there's love there is love

where there's hate there is hate

and human beings without love 

find hells waiting upon this gate

That fence remains always open

the way's shut for each very bad

yet great joys in every good one,

negate the rueful wail of the sad

Nothing yet from a niecy

nephew's out with a cold

having lost a connection,

I count the zeros I behold