Poems

A SONG OF BLUNDER Years ago I read a clever story And it inspired the song that I will sing: Time-travelers sought prehistoric glory, Went

Transcendentalists on TikTok Thoreau tried to post a preliminary draft Of On the Duty of Civil Disobedience But even his own mother Chose an exercise

Jackson, Brooks, Porter; the twenties’ best creators. Their work lives on all thanks to boardwalk empire and the aviator. “Jazz is dated, get lost, you’ll

A Tribute to Oscar “Papa” Celestin and Other Early Jazz Artists from the Thibodaux, La., Area This poem was commissioned for the Thibodaux Jubilee celebration

Years ago I read a clever story And it inspired the song that I will sing: Time-travelers sought prehistoric glory, Went back, and changed a

In addition to everything else going on, I turn 60 this May. (Or should I say “dismay?”) It’s nothing to celebrate, but I thought the

The pieces yearn for each other. Little twists with soft, round arms reach out to open spaces that almost fit, but not quite. They want

Why must I have an opinion? Political stands are glandular, and my glands have deteriorated. I once propounded the truth, but it stood in the

I roam the earth in search of The only man who knows how to cut my hair properly, Neville the Human Pencil Sharpener. I stare

Our national discourse has improved considerably Since Barney was elected President. Who else would kids of all ages love and trust Having been spurned and

I won’t eat in a restaurant. They make me nervous. I eat a lot of spam and tomato soup. I roast weenies on a fork

The pull of gravitation gets me down And holds me as I struggle to ascend; I grapple, its embrace thus to disown, Though certain of

Flash and bang and motion flicker in my periphery Demanding brief bursts of comment but never silence. What is there to like? But approval is

Against automatic banjo-trilobites wagging you haunt me; Were we young once—ever? I have gallstones older and smarter than the President. Yet the leather in the