Hugh, Hue, Hew

He spoke of survival
The tangent
He paced in resistance of the wind
That whipped at my hair
He spoke of history
Of the left and right brain
Of traffic lights
And of the scores of frogs

Many expressions passed
The sun dipped low in the sky
As I, the accidental apprentice
Paced beside him in withering contrapposto

Red, white and blue windows
Backlighting a concrete treadmill
The stage
For something more than politics

Yes, there were passersby
Who with skeptical brows
And gentle nods of appeasement
Turned one or another way
To dodge the abstract truth
Failing to soak up the wavelength
Dismissing us
As we re-wrote time

With a buzz in my pocket
The energy was broken
And I left Hugh alone once more
To sell his tragedies to curious ears

Where I'm From

I am from clocks
from Advil and Kleenex
I am from the lovely trapezoid
Simultaneously warm and frigid
I am from the philodendron
The magnolia tree
whose long gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own

I’m from chats over coffee and messed up Christmas trees
from Eugene and Elizabeth
I’m from weekend getaways
and two-month stay-aways
from long-distance phone calls
I’m from the certainty and confusion
of strong minds
and quick tempers

I’m from manners and hygiene
and “this shall pass”
I’m from Bronxville and Polska
From ancient feuds
and awkward weddings
across the water
We’ve got photos somewhere
I guess
Tucked away in some corner
Untouched by the din of the day

Smarties

The hues of Floridian tract houses
Painted on diminutive hockey pucks
Made of chalk
And magic
Lined up in rows
And enveloped in cellophane

The hues of early years
Painted on diminutive faces
Made of paste
And wonder
Lined up in rows
And enveloped in discovery

The Aroma of Coffee

The ideal
To, for, with which to open groggy eyes
To witness in translucent wisps
Nutty, smoky, vigor
To take it in
And be warm and lively
And recall friends and dialogue
And work and respite
It is the smell of earth and of life

Celestial Soda Pop

Coffee and smoke
Low chatter and entrancing strains
A stage flanked by cascading red velvet
Sitting and sipping
In a tired brown corduroy chair
Inhaling the rich atmosphere
Exhaling insight and acceptance
Reading the unsaid
Hearing the unwritten
Thinking in wishes
Emoting logic
Reveling in the shadows
Of dimmest amber luminescence
Happy place

Distractions

I like what you do
But I don’t wish to join you
Idling in traffic
Tapping your fingers in tune
With the beat in your head
Steering wheel
Bongo drum
And an abrasive horn solo
Coffee in hand
You bend and twist
And glance around
At lovely city horses
Bumper, meet bumper
Coffee, meet lap
Goddamn

I like what you do
But I don’t wish to join you
Feeding and grooming
Absorbing small collisions
Of raindrops with your slicker
Bridle
Manacle
And an oppressive white cart
Amongst black horses
You bend and kneel
And glance around
At fender benders
Crap meet pavement
Shoe, meet crap
Goddamn

You do what you do
I’ll do what I do
Pecking and ticking
Cooing at the passersby
That shuffle carelessly forth
Insolent
Lackadaisical
And eternally unaware
Down at ground level
I grow tired of the street
And take my flight
Across the busy avenue
Body, meet windshield
Pigeon, meet maker
Goddamn

Carmel, New York

I always like winter
best
you can drink hot cocoa
from Starbucks
and lattes
and tea
and coffee
and lots of
gingerbread
and festive cookies
by the fireplace
and listen to
holiday music
in every store
you enter
until it drives
you crazy
and go to
art exhibits with
your friends
and wear boots
and hats
and scarves
and gloves
as you try to fight
the frost
and the snow
and the sleet
and the wind
until you get
to the car
crank up
the heat
and all is well
again

Wealth

Purchase
Teeming wallet
Teeming bags
Teeming kitchen
Teeming closet
Teeming trash can

Travel
Distant island
Distant mountains
Distant coast
Distant city
Distant home

Expect
Due power
Due opulence
Due intellect
Due comfort
Due happiness

Resent
Wicked government
Wicked friends
Wicked spouse
Wicked children
Wicked reflection

Wealth is not all it’s cut out to be