Denouement

Returning to the cacoon, it's begun to begin again: the seed spoiled, the weeds in command. It's supposed to be a renaissance of my own making, but it's taken on the air of concession; it's an accident waiting to be avoided with reflexes that have been dulled with ennui. To skid, to swerve, to plunge into the abyss: it's a game of inches, and nobody's winning.

Another bloodless coup. Another upheaval within the infinite emptiness of my unbelieving soul because of the blood that screams incessantly into the void of my unwavering guilt.

Mathematics

Two nights ago the Red Sox were mathematically eliminated from the post-season. It was very much an anti-climax, since it was clear that the team had collectively surrendered after being swept in a five-game series against the Yankees at Fenway more than a month earlier. Why did it take so long for Math to catch up to reality?

In college, I majored in Chemistry, Biology, Psychology and - lastly - Computer Science. I never majored in the only subject in which I consistently received straight A’s: Math.

I love Math. I hate its inevitable conclusions. X will never equal Y. Why? Because I’m a poet, that’s why.

last day on the job

last day on the job —
the bitter aftertaste
of afternoon coffee

writer's block

writer’s block —
the dog sniffs
every tree

autumn rain

autumn rain —
I put away
my Red Sox cap

for Bethany

my daughter’s birthday —
a sunflower rises
above the weeds

September

September —
the weeds in our garden
start to turn brown

back to school

photo by mmm

harvest moon

harvest moon —
a shopping cart
full of beer cans

ocho

our eighth anniversary —
the dog lies down
between us

Labor Day

Labor Day...
I sleep
’til noon

September

September has always been a pivotal month for me. In September 1963, my youngest brother was born, usurping my status as Favorite Son. In September 1964, I returned from a trip to Puerto Rico with a bad cold. By December I was hospitalized with nephritis. I missed six months of kindergarten and remained sickly throught my childhood. On September 11, 1982, I married my first wife. Two years later, also in September, we had our second child. On September 9, 1996, we were divorced. Two weeks later, I wrote this poem. On September 5, 1998, I married Mrs. Bitter. I had finally redeemed the month of September. Then came September 11, 2001...

war headlines

war headlines —
a leaf falls
to the ground

September

September —
just saying it
makes me shiver