100 Poems in 100 days; the last 25

76. BLACK FRIDAY HAIKU                                                           11/27/15

Overspend today
And over ate yesterday.
Fat America!

 

77. MODNO RUBETS                                                                     11/28/15

parodiya modnom poezii
Snakes coil
                      in the moon’s glow
         while we slough off
                            the shards of years
       the heft of it,
               flashing like fish
  in stately clouds
        through which ravens
                            cross, in their dreams

 

 

78. THE FIRST RACE                                                                     11/29/15

In the crush of boys surrounding me at the party celebrating my seventeenth birthday, a dozens of other boys from my class crowding around me, I cut into the round white cake. In another admission contest, one seventeen years and nine months earlier, I—or half of me anyway—had also been the winner. A competition with higher stakes, a quarter billion applicants, and an admission rate of exactly one.

 

 

79. DAYTRIP                                                                                    11/30/15

It started with stir-crazy boys
who needed to get out,
and a mom, desperate
to avoid some computer work.
Next, take a dad, feeling guilty for
not spending more time with them.

Mix in a full hour

of suggestions, vetoes,
alternatives, and ultimatums.
Finally, add to taste
compromise, apathy, and a little
creative research.

Then pack the lunch:

leftovers, fruit,water bottles,
energy bars and cookies.
Every one loads into the van, and at last
the outing begins!

Drive up the East Bay,

unload under the redwoods,
hike up and down the hill,
eat the lunch,

stop off in Oakland

on the way out:
get a cup of hipster coffee,
hi-concept instant ice cream,
books at a real bookstore.

Now it’s time to go home:

tired, cranky kids squabble,

tired, cranky wife scolds,
until everyone falls asleep
except the smiling driver.

 

80. DEGONFLÉ                                                                               12/1/15

Today it was that storm drain
sticking out into the on-ramp
that did the tire in,
and next thing I know
I’m flapping on the side of the freeway
at 5 miles per hour.

Yesterday it was that book by Truby

sticking its harsh criticism
into my neatly
chronological story,

and the next thing I know

I'm shredding the first ten chapters
and limping along with the re-write
at 5 words per minute.

 

 

81. STEW                                                                                          12/2/15

Some days, we just want to
Hold onto our grievances
Stew in resentment
And steel ourselves against
The weak excuses
Of the offending parties

Like this person

Who finds little ways to belittle me
And seems to enjoy the process over much--
How much more satisfying
To snicker at her own taste
Than to be a grown up, and just say
"Hey, that hurts."

 

82. LOSING MY BABY                                                                    12/3/15

The one thing parents fear the most
Is the only thing that is guaranteed:
Losing your baby.

For some, it happens in tragedy.

A car accident.
Or a divorce.

If you’re lucky, the loss is harder

to discern. Going off to college, say,
Or moving in with a lover.

But even the best-case scenario--

The kid in school,
or successful businessman--

some beautiful young creature

takes them from you
Leaving you with just their memory

and the bills, of course.

Oh, the bills.

 

 

 

83.  SANTA-IN-TRAINING                                                              12/4/15

Now that it's so cold outside--
now that I'm so busy,
it smells like butter here inside:
we're in a baking tizzy.

Now gyms are inconvenient,

and exercise is moot,
dress in something lenient:
a Santa Claus suit!

You can see how it happened

to the young Kris Kringle:
lots of grog, lots of napping,
let out lots of buckle.

Wear a one-piece velvet suit!

Give up on the shaving!
Convince yourself: on you it’s cute!
The worry that you’re saving!

 

84.  INAPPROPRIATE                                                                    12/5/15

Okay, the neighbor kid
was inappropriate
Doing something wrong--
something forbidden.

But what I want to know is,

which of us hadn't
ever done something wrong
at his age, fourteen?

Who hadn't ever said,

"I think I'll do that"?
and had to spend eternity
apologizing to your parents?

 

85. EVIL INDICATIONS                                                                  12/6/15

The day began propitiously enough
with clouds in the proper places
and just the right amount of fall leaves.

The hangover was cleared off,

dog walked, coffee made and drunk,

newspaper read.

But then, indications began to appear

that something was amiss,
that feeling of dread that took hold…

A dead moth in the youngest boy's ear,

atelephone call from a dead relation,
heavy traffic in the neighbor's driveway,

And before the afternoon was over,

a baby girl had changed identity;
severed body parts were found in the gutter.

That night, alternately

moaning and screeching in abject terror,
The clerks closed down. Boarded up.

Until, at last,

They called the
witch doctor.

 

 

 

86.  TWO RIGHTS DON'T MAKE A WRONG                              12/7/15

He said, "the land in front is public"
He said, "your property line is the edge "
Both were true, and I hadn't known.

Then he said, "that means

I can put whatever I want
In front of your house."

And that wasn't right.

I retorted, "No, you can't block me in."
And I said, "you are an idiot "

 And both were right.

But I was still wrong.

 

 

87. HEAVY EQUIPMENT                                                               12/8/15

Another night of tortured sleep!
Dreams of heavy equipment break-downs.
I work with the crew on setting guide rails,
adjusting feedrates,
checking the wiring.
But the machine won't run steady!

At last, in a sweat, I awake.

At my side, my wife sleeps peacefully,
snoring like a
malfunctioning band saw.

 

 

 

88. TWO HOUSES                                                                          12/9/15

I’ve built two houses in my life:
one for bitch, and one for wife.
Sometimes, in a rotten switch,
I’m in the dog house, with the bitch.

 

 

 

89. FWP                                                                                             12/10/15

Yes, the Taliban try every year to kill lot of Jews
and Boko Haram jihadists are said to be bad news,
we know Bashar makes offers that the Sunnis can’t refuse…
but let me tell you all about my Nordstrom clerk’s abuse!

Don’t bore me with Somalia, Al-Shabab at the door;

Michoacan drug cartels leave such a grim folklore;
no one cares if Sudanese are targeting the Nuer,
just wait until you hear how Starbucks stiffed me on the pour!

Oh, it’s a crime how difficult it is to get my way

from all these lazy underlings who never earn their pay.
There’s nowhere worse to live than here in de-class San Jose:
the First-World Problems I could tell would turn your hair to grey!

 

 

90. BAD APPLE                                                                               12/11/15

Steve had his knickers in a twist, today
which left me out of sorts, myself.
Just like my son Sam, tonight
fighting with his brother, who
so badly disturbed the peace, that
waves of irritons radiate to me:
reaction at a distance.

 

 

 

91. THERE ISN’T ENOUGH COFFEE                                         12/12/15

There isn’t enough coffee
in all the rainforests of the world
to give me the ambition
I’ll need to go to work.

There’s a crybaby who waits

for me to soothe his ego
and a computer that won’t
process any email.

There’s burnt-out fluorescent lights

and cranky customers
broken machines
unfinished tasks

As though all the forces

of entropy in the universe
have pooled together
in the inbox on my desk.

But I just remembered,

today is doughnut day!
Where’s my car keys?
See you tonight, Dear!

 

 

92.  THE SMARTEST SQUIRREL IN THE WORLD                  12/13/15

Rodent Dangerfield was
The Smartest Squirrel In The World;
his receding hareline gave
the appearance of a rodential Robert Duval,
for his nut was the size of a tangerine—
and the cognitive superiority it bestowed upon him
allowed him to work out the timing
required to cross a street in traffic,
the exact speed required to go safely
between the wheels of a passing car
thereby giving him a substantial edge
over the rest of his species,
and even a leg up against predators,
several carcasses of which
littered the roadsides.

 

Alas, even the smartest squirrel in the world

proved no match for Mrs. Ralston
an eighty-nine year old widow
making a buttermilk run on RD’s street,
for Mrs. R had the maddening tendency
to tap on her brakes
whenever any motion caught her peripheral vision.

 

 

93. THE OPEN HOUSE                                                                  12/14/2015

Every Christmas we hold an open house although we aren’t entire sure why because we aren’t Christians and we couldn’t possibly open the tiny little bungalow to everyone we know even if there’s always some sick or in another state or otherwise unable to come, and even worse those who actually had nothing else to do but still out of inertia never bothered to respond, despite knowing that the preparation for these parties takes days of planning, shopping and preparing, to say nothing of the expense; another dubious point is the awkward groping for the names of some we’ve only seen infrequently and who suddenly appear in the front door; another is worrying that so-and-so won’t have anyone to talk to since the rest of his clique isn’t here yet, and then wondering if one shouldn’t extract oneself from the kitchen pigeon-holed by such-and-such for an unhostly long stretch, and then there is the sadness and relief when the critical guests have come and gone and the party finally winds down, leaving one to an ungodly heap of dishes and clean-up, and next the interrupted restless sleep that never comes if we have eaten and drunk too much, so most inexplicable of all is the inchoate longing for the next 364 days to pass so one can have another go all over again.

 

 

94. NOW THAT THE CHILDREN                                                  12/15/2015

Now that the children are growing up
they’re no longer empty slates.
it used to be that merely
having fun was goal enough--
and learning happened of its own accord.
But now the world isn't quite as magical
and any activity we parents find
that smacks of books or betterment
are out of bounds, they’re “for nerds.”

Now, when their boredom begins

to infect their unformed brains
and the rough-housing begins,
I break them up, and threaten them,
desperate to find them something fun to do
that doesn’t involve staring mindlessly
at some screen.

 

 

 

95. OH, MY RICH NEIGHBOR, FRANK                                      12/16/15

Oh my rich neighbor, Frank,
has a new trophy wife
and good fortune to thank
for his pricey new life

First he tore down his house

and rebuilt it much bigger
to suit his new spouse
(or, that’s what I figure

‘cause she drives a Caddy).

His step-daughters drive Lexes,
and of course, Big Daddy
got a big fast Mercedes

and wall-sized TV--

you can watch it from here,
or from their pool—see?
He’s out now, with a beer

He’s watching some game

as he floats on his floaty
Does he think we’re all lame?
‘Cause he looks a bit gloaty.

But I don’t want your pad,

I don’t lust for your wife.
All the cars just seem sad:
is that it for your life?

 

 

 

96. DADDY'S XMAS LIST                                                              12/17/15

If you have to buy me socks
please get good ones, made for jocks.
Not cheap ones, especially if
they promise minty scratch and sniff.

I'd also like a decent pen;

The one I have just clogged again.
But not some hundred-buck Mont Blanc
like one might give a stuck-up wonk--
just something that won't interrupt
these feeble flashes that erupt

 

97. MOM WAS RIGHT                                                                     12/18/15

 C would have been 55 today

but for an unwillingness to stick it out
and his too-ready divorce
fifteen years ago, from a beautiful dancer
half his age, too flighty and needy,
but it was the honeymoon to Turkey
thout his second wife
after his second precipitate divorce
where he caught the H. Pilori
that doctors said catalyzed
into the stomach cancer.
 

 

98. THE OLD LIBERAL                                                                   12/19/15

At Bill's swingin’ Xmas party
the conversation turned,
as they so often do at swingin’ parties,
to pensions and union reps.

Well, he's a retired teacher

and says he believes in unions,
fairness and diversity,
but you have to wonder
if the liberal stance is just habit

 

When he forwards emails about
useless government workers,
suspicious-looking muslims,
and overreaching feminists.

 

99. OUTING #2                                                                                 12/19/15

Once there was a time
when I'd load three seats into the car
grumbling at the unwieldy plastic
the overreaching nanny state
telling me how to take care of my kids.

Off we'd go, exploring some new park

and gleeful, the boys would spill out
in the parking lot,
run to the play structure
just run in the field
the thrill of the top-speed chase,
of looking for snakes under rocks.

Now, these teenagers have to be

ured out of the house
away from the video games
Grand Theft Auto
which, it may come as no surprise
has no infant car seats.

 

100. WHAT WOULD BILLY SAY                                                  12/21/15

How would Billy Collins start this poem?
He's always got some engaging opening line,
and all I can do is blunder right in
as if I had ten seconds to make my point.
Though all I want to say is, how sad
that what had started out so promising
can go so quickly south.

This morning when the dog and I took off--

her: prancing, eager at the leash,
me: fresh from a long night of sleep
the whole: birds singing, the morning sun shining.

Until I met, in front of my neighbor's house,

a woman whom I took to be her mother,
(although upon reflection maybe she
did not really look all that old)
In any case, she grimaced and said
she was actually the lady's best friend.

Then, to make the faux pas complete

my dog went up to her and
licked up something nasty off their lawn.
So now here we are, walking away,
or limping, rather. Humbled and abashed.
On (what was going to be) our glorious walk.