hunter’s moon —
the dog’s eyes
widen

Black Friday —
an ambulance arrives
at the Nursing Home

quiet Thanksgiving —
a cat crawls out
of the dumpster

first snow —
whose turn is it
to walk the dog?

too cold to snow
she won’t return
my call

November wind —
an uninvited guest
rattles the shutters

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china capital details history rookie edge edge

hard frost —
acorns at the foot
of the old oak

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Robot Adult Brain Leg Fork

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Computer Tiger Telescope Church Square

Armistice Day —
I rescue a moth
from a spider web

Veteran’s Day rain —
an old man holds an umbrella
above the monument

(an “oldie” from November 1998)

last day on the job —
frost on both sides
of the windshield

denouement

sobering to think
that we both wanted the same thing.
intoxicating to know
that neither of us knows for certain
what lies ahead.
I need a drink —
and it’s barely sunrise.

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ethnic juxtaposition dismemberment

Methadone for Music Junkies

Some of you may know of my fondness for the erstwhile Guided By Voices. Some of you may also know that they were almost never played on commercial radio, and that even the fine college radio stations here in Boston rarely had a place for their low-fi indie pop. Well, salvation has come in the form of Pandora Radio, a website that basically takes the name of a performer as input and then generates a playlist of like-minded acts for one’s listening enjoyment. Thanks to my Guided By Voices “station” on Pandora Radio, I’ve been treated to music both new and familiar. Never one to be a freeloader for very long, I’ve made impulse purchases of CDs by Swearing At Motorists and Jason Loewenstein, and have no doubt that there will be more. Who says that radio is dead?

late train —
a billboard asks
“Do you have insomnia?”

November night —
the steam rising
from a dead cat

Day of the Dead —
my son graduates
from The Academy

a trumpet plays Taps —
my son the Marine informs me
his Liberty is over