the f u dance

fireworks

one legged bill
probably isnt his name
hes a wall of a man
drives an old buick
and works in
a fireworks store

im in there all the time
sometimes to scare
my siblings with
how native i have gone
sometimes because
of the shock in folks faces

you still play with fireworks

but mostly because
i have been an
addict for the
whiz sparkle baboom
since i remember
being alive

the pavement
in the parking lot
weeps wavy lines
of invisible smoke
up to the full strength sun
its air you cant breath
so you gulp it in chunks
like hot coffee

pull the door open
and the sea of
neatly stacked and displayed
brightly packaged bombs
is shockingly cool

i inhale deeply
and my lungs say ahhh
in spite of myself

bill and i are the only ones
in the store on a wednesday afternoon
in the middle of summer

yeah
says he
why do you think i came in today
its not like people beat down the doors
after the fourth
but my house doesnt have ac
and i just couldnt hear
the wife complain about it anymore


hmmm
can i work here too



sorry
eightfourten

native

i know i ll never be
in
with this crowd
the rules to get in are too strict
and i can barely
hold my own
cos i think im in over my head
it takes a lot of hard work
just to be a fringe player
i mean
you hafta be born into it
and i was born
outside of hoboken

wow says me
whats the big allure
why do want in so bad
not really knowing what he was talking about
cos i jumped in the conversation late

well
its a great town
the people are you know
friendly and
they help each other out
and you call someone and say
could you give me a hand
i have to move this humongous boulder
up a hill by hand
and ten people will show up
kids are safe when they play outside
i mean
just look at the place
norman rockwell coulda painted it
i never really had that before

being a bit slow it dawns on me
uh
youre talking about our town
i thought you were talking about a
a country club

not being a native
i guess i too
am a fringe playah



sorry
eightfourten

hissy birthday

wow
it amazes me how
some folks
not young kids but
older fifties plus folks
get pissy when the
world doesnt recognize their birthday
i mean
its not like their birthday
was announced on the news
or posted in the paper
how the hell was i supposed to
find out that a co worker or
neighbor or friend of a friend
was born on july twentyfourth

and yet
like some retribution
some psychopayback
for not bowing in homage
to the day of your birth
here you are
being all snippy and bitchy
driving in the thumbscrews
with a hammer
all about you

i get that it is good to be young at heart
i m a kid down to the core
but when the hell
are you gonna ditch the
kiddie cake and icecream
pseudocelebration
or at least
making the rest of us pay
for not bringing the
ponies and streamers

jeezelouise


sorry
eightsixten

dropout

he said
i think its about time
i dropped outta school
and put that frankenbitch
back together again
pointing at my poor
belabored beast

wow

not sure thats the best career move
hes ever made
but
he must really hate school


sorry
eightnineten

hill

walking through the drying swamp bed
shoes slowly sinking
into the claylike mud

dont stand in one place too long
i tell my son
it ll suck your shoes off
as the suction sounds mark our steps
as we make our way to
a secret island
between the brooks

the historically treacherous brook crossing
keeps the traffic down
to us two and his sister
usually

its not that cool
when theres no water
says he
and we talk about the dryspell
and how the water crested
the brook bank by over three feet
last year at this time

its not a secret island
anymore
he says
more like
a
pretty easy to get to
hill


sorry
eightnineten

dnr

a dear friend of mine
just had to sign the dnr papers
for his wife at the hospital

she has als and frontal lobe dementia
and it all happened fast

she can barely breathe
can barely speak
and when she does
its often not her words
its not her
anymore

he spoke with his son and daughter
and knows she wouldnt want to live
on a machine
for even a second

hes trying to follow her decision
hes trying to be strong when she just cant
hes watched her wither before his eyes
the woman he married
the woman he loves

i can see him
being brave
standing in the antiseptic white light
surrounded by the white coats
and beeping equipment
i can imagine him
asking
wavering voice
for the
do not resuscitate
paperwork
pushing tears back
trying
if even for just a penstroke
not to remember

but
there is no way
i can imagine
what he felt
as he signed his name


peace to you ray


sorry
eighttwelveten

dnr two

the good son is strong
and flies in from
san diego
he agrees to agree
with his dads decision

the caring daughter is there
holding her fathers hand
insuring moms wishes
will be carried out

the husband huddles them around him
he will be strong for them too
he will allow life to play
its cruel sick hand
on the only woman
as he stands there
helplessly stoic

far away
i cry like a baby
for them
because they cant
right now


they love you j
in a way
i hope
i ll never have to show


sorry
eighttwelveten

lord of the flies

my nieces and nephews
take off down the hill
with my kids
running toward the
now drying stream bed
tentatively eyeing the mud
at first
then
full on mudsmearing
facepainting regression
into little cave people
complete with
grunting and apelike gestures
they were having a blast

wow says my wife
didnt take much
for them to all go
lord of the flies
on us now did it



sorry
eightfourteenten

greybeard bootcamp

the venerable greybeard
eyed the slope
of the wooden
handlashed climbing grid
i had assembled to the side
of the playhouse
the red birch and maple poles
though secured with deck screws
and lashed for safety
wasnt impressing him
enough to scamper up the fifteen feet or so

bu then the munchkins
perched atop
like magpies on a wire
called him up

all seventy plus years
are telling him
this is a bad
idea
but
up he climbs
and parks atop
kids all screaming hooray
he raises his fist
like he just sunk
a fifty foot putt

still a little kid in there
after all these years


sorry
eightthirteenten

fog

spent the night driving

my mother in law
is in the hospital and
not doing well
had to get my wife
off the island and
drive back home
drop her off
and drive back to
the land of eagles
and islands
gotta help our kids
and family friends
finish our vacation

took the ten foot boat
across the lake at ten pm
moon bouncing in and out of
fast moving fluffy clouds

pulled into camp at ten thirty
the silence was deafening

crashed hard
to the loons
surprise crying
their mournful cooing
feeling sorrow for me

the fog burying
long before daylight


sorry
eightseventeenten

goodnight j

my father in law called
at two thirty am
we knew

we knew

that sudden hollow feeling

i held my wife
she wept bitterly
she d lost her mom

goodnight j
you fought so hard and for so long
you taught me new layers
of diplomacy
in the face of adversity
a worthy opponent
and a better ally

i will miss the you
i knew


sorry
eighttwentyten

black suit

it hadnt been pressed since the last time
the pocket still held the
valet ticket from
what seems like
a million years ago

the suit makes
the invincible part of me
that screams
fuck off reaper
weep like a blubbering baby
some kryptonite
to the supposed super me

rituals i am told are necessary
do little to keep me in line
i dont lay down
i dont bend my angered frown
into sympathetic smiles
i dont uncurl my balled fist
for anything or anyone
when the final sleep
rips someone from me
i rail into the wind
cursing bitterly
and vow revenge

but

the tears roll down
the swollen cheeks
of the daughter
i love
as we wait for
the earth to take her mom

and the damned black suit
wraps me tight
in straight jacket fits
until all i can do
is
smile sympathetically


sorry
eighttwentythreeten

obscene

even the sky weeps
its hushing silence
as gravity drags
even the silliest of smiles
down to the hungry earth
making it obscene

sorry
eighttwentythreeten

sickening

i am not sure why
perhaps an illness
that leads me to believe
that a sickening amount of bourbon
will ease this pain or that
or force night to take
my mind from me
for a moment
just a moment

this illusion
i cling to with
tenacity
is just that

or perhaps
i so enjoy
the hail of anvils
that pelt me with precision
the morning after

lockstep with some
obvious urge
to punish
my feeble attempts
to stop pain and time


sorry
eighttwentythreeten

every quarter inch

strings from
all of them
the hundreds
tied off to
every quarter inch
of me

i jig a jig
and tip my hat
waving to the passers by

while
smolders deep
inside my wooden head
the burning desire
to apoplectically flail
straight razor in each hand
and hack each bind
to slump
lifelessly in the corner
for just one bloody second



sorry
eighttwentythreeten

not sure

the eulogy was
sweet and poignant
the service was filled with
honest tears
and warmth

then
during the last prayers
the service leader
asks god to
take
insert name
into their loving arms

the name inserted was not
the beloved departed

it was
instead
the name of her frail older sister
who stood next to me

a simple blunder
a nasty faux pas
but the sisters face
went white as a sheet
as if she was
having an
out of body experience
watching her own funeral service

just cant make this shit up
i still question the need
for these rituals
that are supposed to
help
people ease into reality

its crass
im jaded
but fuck that


sorry
eighttwentyfourten

my bad


so i railed against the
whole
funeral thing
and still do to some extent
but
to see the
sheer volume
of people
showing that they care
that they know and
that they will miss
my dearly departed
changed me
probably
from now on

my wife
so strong
needed to see
the car pool moms
and the brownie moms
and the school moms
of her past
surround her
with
you are not alone
and we all care
and they do

not a replacement
not a ersatz fill in
but real

i am an idiot
in so many ways
but at least
this time
i might have
learned


sorry
eighttwentyfiveten

only sixtysix days

things have been smearing by
some blur i only half recognize
too much for my
wittle bwain
to handle

i wandered
into the shop
armfuls of
misc tools
from attempted dryer repair
front hub assembly on the gmc
and
of course
dear frankenplow

picked up some
styrofoam insulation board
and started hacking it up
with a coping saw
hot glue and old house paint
were pulled out
in a flurry of
distracting activity

there were halloween road signs
and four mock gravestones
and foam skulls and bones
everywhere
all of a sudden

my wife
buried in her own attempts
to reground after the
winds have been whipping her around
walks in

what are you doing

guilty
as if i had
somehow
offended
but continued regardless
i said
theres only sixtysix days
until halloween

which wouldn't have gotten me
off the hook
except that
last year
this crap started
when there was
two hundred and something
days until
my favorite holiday

boo



sorry
eighttwentysixten