Table of Contents

Dessert Day

Jobs were scarcer 

Than conscientious UN workers.

Buying food for our tables

Meant a flurry of hits 

To the family pride's midriff.

Far cry from yesteryear

When eye of round and sirloin

Greased our greedy lips.

Cheap meat could only clear

A now b-movie budget.

All eyes turned away 

As the pacifier for hunger's ache,

A bum-deal of a meal,

Made its short trek from 

Rooms kitchen to dining

Having the aesthetic

Of hastily hacked machete spaghetti

And worse, a dog's breakfast,

When lying on our plates.

It was but one concession 

That kept sorrow's visit

From growing unwieldy bold;

My sister's school raffle

Won us a rarely seen treat,

A gallon of top shelf

Maple swirl ice cream.

Now isn't that sweet?


Dog Fight


Static signal of archaic vestiges

No longer made contact 

With human sense. 

T’was a foreign radio station 

Aboard a sinking vessel

Finding the hopeless side

Of the ocean's surface.

Fingers of life sipped at sugared water

Mustering the supply 

For a conflict percolating 

Just beyond this present day.

Earth's familial coddling made 

Extreme physical delicacy 

Rare as salt water on 

The tops of mountains.

Kites in strong hands 

Pulling and maneuvering 

In a school-yard dog fight

Was later used as allegory

Best preserving the motions 

Of this gentlemen's battle.

Creatures of deep sea mythos

Making their way atop

Yellow waves of might, 

Crescendoing into indigo foam, 

Circling impassable shores

Like floating rubble

Working on a planet's behalf,

Keeping watch in uniform rings. 

Without help from human imagination

Their powers held as much sway 

As forgotten leaves gathered

On pond silt.

Daisy U.S.A.


Were flare

For feminine patriotism

Fore-ordained before day's birth,

Being conceived 

Under the warmth

Of an American flag print quilt

And parental watch 

By overhead framed 

Venerated Saints. 

Once loosed 

From childhood's limitation,

She traveled

Round and round the country's coastline;

To taste 

Every personality blooming 

Off her beloved nativity scene;

Round and round,

Like the home-built carousel


With her grandfather's sentimental strokes 

Under the promenade.

Her ways ripe with care;

Her head 

For a dignified discipline;

She doted

On her flawless coat of skin;

A blessing 

Allotted by the American God,

Pouring forth 

Oils naturally sourced

To the exclusion 

Of heretic versions

Lining the grocer's shelves.

Her hair

Daily fed nutrients 

Of wild honey

And juice berries,

Applied with betraying force,

Not common to womanly hands.

One could not be blamed 

For suspecting her visionary sights

Were set for a title,

America's sweetest sweetheart.


Dangerous Living


Sitting on fresh cut lawn grass

looking for the romance

In Old Testament pages

Helped us take our minds off 

The ammunition kisses;

The limbs grazed by bullets.

They told us it's easier

To murder a robber

Than attempt to rob a murderer.

No end to expressing oneself 

In uncouth ways,

Making motions left of sideways.

A common chore 

Was our hug to the floor

As Hellion hit squads, 

And wanna-be lackeys,

Those little weasels,

Took pot-shots more than not

Making touch downs 

On us human end zones.

We, the slow ones,

Bled inside our shirts

While the ghetto businessmen 

Raised their own mild smiles

At thoughts of unavoidable hikes

In dry-cleaning bills; 

Our coats and trousers 

Trying out the color red.

One of these men,

It was repeatedly said,

Was Sesame Street's 

Mr. Hooper look-a-like.

Mean girls claimed

His manhood was smaller 

Than a poppy farmer's paycheque.

Passed down to us 

Were morality's lessons

Teaching us right 

The order of value:

It's better to lay atop

The hills of poverty

Than make wallets handsome

With the collected loot 

Of an American's ransom.