#434 "we reach the shore"

the colour in my cotton candy

the life in my bleachers

the difference between standing

in the game

in the box

full count

and standing

alone

ball and bat

practising for a game that never comes

she puts a glove on my hand and leads me to the mound

from my safe places, dug out or daisy filled

#433 on habit

habit is the friend of comfort and the enemy of growth

the friend and the enemy of creativity

habit changes time

and changing habits changes people

changes neurons and muscles

actions and reactions

and they exist under every scalp

even the one who rebels habit

#432 Pretty Frickin Brave

breaking pine

fists hard as titanium

heart fragile as chicken egg

if her world only knew

how delicate

how precious

how loving

but she hides truth

behind fists and sarcasm and a quick offense

and they only see tough

only know tough

#431 quaecumque sunt vera

bulk wine in gold chalice

bought with my coins from collection basket

and if i don't believe it's the blood

of the quirky jew

bearded blue-eyed and white?

i'm denied at gate by The Rock

a fisherman with identity confusion

blessed be god forever

that our sacrifice may be acceptable

the work of human hands

for we sacrifice truth

#430 on our knees

two black eyes covered with two post-it notes

social billboard

and a man faces us in the elevator

and we strangers are joined in discomfort, unnerved

necks angled, joint attention pseudo-gaze at digital floor numbers ascending

and the crazy man ain't so crazy

he sees the bars that we love

we call the bars beautiful

he calls them ugly

stares us in the face

and we refuse to see

instead we do unspeakable things to our jailers

#429 the pioneer daze

there is an electronics company called Pioneer

does anyway else find that peculiar

they want to associate

with hard work and determination and quality workmanship

but they want to skip the in between

and we let them

look at brand names and slogans and jingles

what are they trying to fool you to believing

#428 don't look

the woodsplitter's appetite was almost full

the boy and his father had started after lunch

now, dusk left only about 10 candidates for slaughter

maybe eleven

the cracking and spitting of wood giving way

fought to be heard over the humming and coughing engine

the boy felt nothing

as the machine sliced his hand off

just a sense of fitting detachment

watching it drop to the bark and kindling-bits october ground

then the father saw

and he stopped

as the neurons sent the message

yes, you maimed your boy. decapitated.

then he switched off the motor

stopped again

and spoke

#427 patience comes to those who wait

warm ashes beat open flame

but the temptation

the temptation for speed and gratification

often trump old-fashion biddies

patience and determination

consistency and meticulousness

but the call of the open flame

has been the end of many a marshmallow

#426 searching

i climb down the rusted ladder

into the three-crock well

hoping for water

my feet hit concrete

all echo, no splash

i fight panic as a cobweb clings to my face

i brush the grossness with sleeve

sigh

relax

ascend the ladder to the light

and walk to the river

#425 the space between the trees

spring riding

my fingers twitch on brakes

i focus on the earth at the end of narrow logs and bridges

on the spaces between trees

sitting behind my seat

surrendering to gravity

testing gravity

challenging gravity

the near defeat on the uphill, forgotten

nothing but the trail in front of me now

the space between the lodgepoles

with a blanket of orange needles

with some tears

exposing jagged rock and slick roots

#424 a place of fear

as smoke and blood compete

i fight to suppress panic

eyes closed faith in the bearded professional

more blood and smoke

a digging through numb nerves to my center

a place, a fear

i have not met

speech and movement removed until they are useless

when he is done with me

i slide my jacket on

walk away

#423 "make a record of your sensations"

clusters of thoughts bounce and ricochet on and off my cranium's interior and i cannot put the thoughts together

like last night's poem written in my bed inside my head

i remember greatness, but the arrangement of the 26 letters
falls between synaptic clefts

like luigi off a cliff

just as the recording of a moment changes time

so too, does the failure to place a version of the moment on paper, or screen

to watch the blinking cursor
like sooty shoes in empty winter woods
leaving moments, as trails of black on white

#422 disposable thoughts

yellow squares,

adhesive memory aids

once trees

now disposable thoughts

a block sits by Bell's box

how did he do it

without post-it notes

#421 monster

monster is a silly word to adults and parents

but how many of us like to sleep alone

without a light, a tv, a pet, music

we shelter our kids

and we shelter ourselves

from the monstrosities of which our kids are capable

and it's funny that monsters live under the bed and in the closet

a child's first choices for refuge

#420 aptly numbered

if you can't say something nice

don't say anything at all

says every mother

and so i sat in my cloud on my couch

sat with my clouded friends, away from humanity

then i heard cleaver

on problems and solutions

and it all seemed so black-and-white

i got off the couch

out of the cloud

then discouragement hit

i realized every time i joined a solution

i added to a problem somewhere

gave up meat, put my neighbour out of work

turned off the light bulbs, found myself in the dark

#419 "on the street and the epitome of vague "

the last of the poets and the philosophers died

and no one knows when

and their last theory/system of faith disproven

Supply And Demand

for they're needed now more than ever

still they rot in wooden boxes beneath the surface

or maybe they hide

maybe they've gone underground

waiting for people to listen

maybe they hide in guitar strings and computer keys

hoping for hope

#418 composting and compiling

sorting the garbage form the reusable from the compost

cutting and sorting

connecting themes and linking words

trying and re-trying

grouping and discarding

until he is ready to walk away

to put them on display and to walk away

#417 pocket vibrations

i've not owned you

in two-thousand calendar squares

yet you haunt my iliac crest

my mind plays april fools in september

and i swear you're there

with change and keys, wrinkled receipts and purple lint

your battery is dead

you lie waste in a landfill

alive in my every day and my everyday

age is a ghost

a nomadic wanderer

hoarding memories along Eighty Year trail

guilt is a roommate

with laundry-and-circles-and-dishes

dwelling in a dwelling for things without end

#416 something's broken

i am one of paul's new inheritors

false certificate of birth

a brother calls on a phone

and i want to ask

do you feel the guilt

the guilt of clean fingernails

unknown credit card balances

of throwing out broken appliances

along with your aspirations of being handy

i am one of paul's new inheritors

overestimating my worth

#415 peace without the index

seaweed and diamonds and titanium mountains

step into the ring

the well-read corner

or the blue corner

weighing in

on questions of matter

and do they matter

a spliff-smoking pugilist

still searching

on map and by thumb and in car

for corners to a nation into which he fell

caught by a man in a white coat

#414 i have some bread to offer

what would he say

seeing his anatomy and the liquid that lub-dubs through

doled out once a week to well-dressed, head-bowing, chest-thumping sinners

cups made of Man's sixth most expensive metal

touched, honoured

disgusted, insulted

lord, god of all creation

i'm sorry

for what we've done to this big blue toy ball of yours

which you have given and human hands have maimed

mine included

#413 rearview mirror

the only thing worse than coming to in a racing, wailing ambulance

is coming to in a crawling, silent ambulance

i float above

see a sign over a night reflection

objects in mirror are closer than they appear

and i feel irony but its meaning haunts, unclear

family and friends, regrets and triumphs

flash-fade into the reflections background

drowning fast out of sight into a horizontal world

choices and moments

cookies and mashed potatoes

#412 poetry, like warm apple pie

the dough is rolled and spread

the tracks are pierced pricked

the oven pre-heated

the fork holes let out the pressure, the heat, the excess

release and escape

a way out

#411 "side by side in orbit"

an empty dock

beneath the light of a half full-moon

a young couple treads water full of romance

they climb on top of the wooden dock

extra meaning beneath their simple comments

down the beach, sparks shoot up from a bonfire

they swim back

and run forth

to the warmth of towels

in the chill of midnight

and fumble for their clothes

folded smooth on a fallen tree

#410 loss and freedom

his body laughs as it shakes

inside and out

beloved chains removed late in life

no longer restrained by the safety net

guilt is a friend now

constant companion

for freedom is a result of late night wishes finding fruition

but they are there

in the light switch and in the b'tato beeler

#409 i need an assistant

to tell me where to be

help me eat healthy

tell me where i left my stuff

help me just enough

keep track of my life

without having to be my wife

tell me i deserve a beer

keep my memory crystal clear

i need an assistant

tell me what i'm suppose to pick up

remind me at 5:30, feed the pup

one with a good sense of humour

that knows to laugh at all my jokes

one with a good judgement of character

that likes me and all my blokes

pay might be low

but you get to hang out with me you know

#408 routine and ritual/ like a million others

her hand sets the alarm, 7:00

like a million others

removes her retainer to the nightstand

and as much as routine and ritual

kill love and faith

it is the life of the being that beats the heart

he drools a bit, just before sleep

whispers, I pick you every night

she smiles, ditto

she falls asleep feeling special

he falls asleep feeling needed

with a bit of drool

#407 - Anniversary

a year

a year is gone

fifty-two sundays

and many are the moments she fell from my mind

the moon and the sun still trade shifts

trees still reach for the sun

only to fall

still

i have moments when tears fill my soul

and inside i wail like a toddler at the sight of her own blood

why her

why then

fair

fair is a four-letter f-word made up by adults

a laughable lie passed through generations

a moon made of cheese

#406 orville

people are like popcorn kernels

pour a bunch together, turn up the heat

interesting things happen, volume rises

all the same

and no two alike

some rise to the top

a few fail to pop

#405 oh, to be 7 in the summer

black eyes and scraped knees

signs of a happy childhood

of days outside and of softballs missed

missing lunch because the game loses time

digging trenches in the mud and pouring water

a stick and dental floss and something for a hook

equal a day of fishing the brook

apples are for eating, and for throwing

same as snow

and grass should be for walking

#404 today

aurora borealis does not compare to a million hits on youtube

lying on our backs beneath a shared and lonely sky

is nothing when they have all the answers in their palms

a falling star

this world of my parents and of theirs

we have it all and feel entitled to more

take your thumb and hit this country

be sure to get off the main black road

littered with box stores by our society

of which i am a registered member

that is my SIN

find the simple and the ordinary
that lies around the bend of a dusty unnamed pot-holed country road

#403 introspection and interruption

i stare out a living room window

lights off

saving energy

forcing introspection that borders on depression

what has this life done with me

what have i done with this life

my answers are embarrassingly quiet

inconsequential

and as i travel inward

portaging over time

my black lab pushes her arse against me sideways

demanding attention

and i smile

at time

and at human mood

at myself

and at my dog

#402 white nose hair

don't grow old

it's lonely

watching friends die

remembering what your body used to do

age is no longer revered

are today's seniors less wise

or our youth

a frightening disconnect exists

a disconnect that always existed

but it's bigger now

the old want to be young

and the young never want to grow old

yet

we are missing something

a beauty and a comfort that comes with age for some

#401 lonely sink

13-inch by 13-inch plexi-glass

he stares

his only power, their lack of knowledge

eats sunday dinner from its pot

over a lonely sink

goes to bed

stares at the long faded

glow-in-the-dark stars straight ahead, above

and dreams of other worlds

#400 just sitting in a chair

as the skin rots

the reputation grows

last words and insignificant anecdotes

grow into myth and legend that blend with reality

and farm-wife becomes goddess

and shopper becomes life of life

but reality is one dream

agreed upon by the majority

and dreams are but what is deemed impossible by the majority

take my dreams

stuff your reality

just let me sit in this chair, alive

#399 2-person tent

a tent feels like its own world

but everyone can hear what's happening in their

a relationship feels like a bubble

but others are affected by negative vibes

a thin wall

a human-made boundary

measured in millimeters

separates these worlds from those around them

the outside conditions still affect you

but on a rainy day

so does the colour inside your tent

#398 a bridge in time

from danny's perch on the third and final rung of the rural bridge

his smile and his tan dominate the moment

he jumps

seems to pause

flies falls plunges

the shallow river swallows his tan and his smile

eternity is a long time my brain says to itself

then he surfaces

and we all breathe and cheer, act all no-big-deal

hoping no one challenges us to follow

#397 a new to-do list

lists grow away

in front of me

like the horizon

for a rear facing kid

backseat station wagon

but without the wonderment

and so i'm making a new list

but this time

my rule to myself

no additions to the list

#396 corner of 4th and center

he strums his street-corner guitar

accepting praise and insult with a smile

eye contact with every donor

a smile

a nod

appreciation

flowing from original to cover and back

going where the crowd and the guitar and his soul take him

in his hands, the guitar has a life, a personality

stories to tell

secrets and laughs to share

#395 whatever you do, do it well

an angel in a VHS rental shop

her smile a highlight for customers

male and female

her humour a plus for co-workers

friendly and grumpy

she has 180'ed more days than she knows

patrons leave with shoulders an inch higher

on the weekly schedule co-workers look forward

to seeing her name beside their own

#394 1998 nickel

she was a cerebral experience after seven years of emotion

inspiring, plain, and simple, plain and simple

inspiringly naive

she saw positive superlatives in everyone

the kindest, the nicest, the most passionate

and me

the most potential

she was as shiny coin new to circulation

but four years of wear and of grimy palms

loosened her luster

and she no longer stands out in a cash register

or in a stack of nickels

#393 this poem

a drop in the bucket of cliches

as unique as any simile

a metaphor in pixels

and an annoying alliteration

with an excessively, over-the-top adverb

#392 guns in cars

words fall from mouths

like bullets from guns

holes in souls

scars in cars

the worst place to fight

no way to walk away

road trip backward

down relationship drive

#391 glimpses

there are what-if's in my life

and if i dwell

i spend a day of my life in bed

under a heavy blanket

but a poet needs to stand under a cloud

once in a while

red and white dress

always summer in my mind's memory

the reality of today

and the dress was hard to surprise

she knew me

called empty promises empty promises

and called my bluffs when i was bluffing myself

but she knows the man

the man i catch rare glimpses of

she saw that man every time her eyes faced me

#390 aloe vera

guys sport pasty white legs

girls desert their sleeves

and sandals are dug out

the (unofficial) first day of summer has pulled into the driveway

and it's honking its horn

29 degrees

skies are blue and people are not

winter has lost and spring is retreating

where's my aviators?

#389 et two

clothes fly like fireworks

and one he and one she

fall softly but semi-roughly

into one bed

around the bed are half-inverted socks

unbuckled pants

and twisted shirts

hours earlier

wine splashed

and dishes were dirtied

with his best meal

lasagna

and caesar

#388 1,2,3...

a vertical bat jumps back and forth back and forth

between two brothers' hands

at the last catch they step toward each other

now there hands, grasping the bat, climb each other

then they near the bat's handle

finger-scissors appear

alas, the older, longer-fingered boy wins

again

first bat

he hoots

half the boys follow him

and half the younger brother

#387 four-letter words

words tossed like spoons

but they're knives

slicing palms

and scarring for years

until the sliced

no longer sees the marks

#386 x

high-fives, sport-stats, and horsepower

work 8-5

home for supper

life used to be easy

well, not easy, but easy to figure

predictably hard

and now what?

equal rights is a phrase in employee manuals

holding a door is either expected

or dangerous

and knitting is laughed upon
tell me, what does a man look like?

#385 fraction and commingling

the party next-door in the hall next to this church

makes the sermon-goers feel jealous

and the drinkers feel like high-school kids again

but for one

a partier who feels all guilt and no pleasure

she stays with her friends

dripping herself in guilt

betraying her Father

betraying her father

#384 looking out

from the valley, my house behind me

i gazed at a mountain

so i climbed, to conquer

from the peek, valley at my back

i stared at a taller mountain

so i descended, to ascend

from the second mountaintop, the old range behind me

i dreamed of the birds above

so i spread my arms, to fly

#383 zero gravity

tonight

is a planet with a language without a word for gravity

so when i'm up, i won't anticipate a fall

when i'm up, i won't come back down

every today higher than its yesterday

a smiling, happy rotation

without fear of tomorrow

no watching the phone ring

crossing the street from a friend

or hiding from life, in my bedroom

tonight

is a world with a language with a word for change

#382 a letter to the city (capo8)

why ya gotta try G

scrape my sky D

why ya gotta try

scrape my sky

why ya gotta go

hurt my so' CCC

Em,C,Em,D

when your freeways

gonna feel free

when your freeways

gonna feel free

ride your roads

follow your lines

ride under your ground

'tha million others

ride under your ground

'tha million others

travel your subway

feel alone

so many choices

overwhelm

so many choices

overwhelm

combo number nine

choose for me

4million feet racin'

goin' nowhere

4million feet racin'

goin' nowhere

2 million people

race the hand in the light

girl on a corner

askin for change

daughter on a corner

time for a change

girl on a corner

get me out

#381 dead wait

gone, gone

the anchor has been cut

and we motor away with the limp empty line

she lies on the bed of our ocean floor

lies, as sediment lulla-byes her to sleep

#380

i look at her and see a future bulge of life

what was once on the far end of the map

is now close

around the corner?

in an empty house i hear youth laughing and hiding in nooks and crannies

the small spaces, ignored by adults and treasured by kids

forts and stores and worlds

imagination for mortar

cementing the buildings

cementing the future adults

#379 whatever works

my spine compress each day

as i fail to raise the balance of my bank account

working 12 hour days

there are no dreams

as i switch from work to bed to alarm to work

the kl-chunk of time-clocks as regular as my heartbeat

as the ratio of brown-to-white evens out on my head

#378

their relationship is beautiful and sad

he hurts her and loves her

like the surf against a rocky shoreline

and he cannot hurt her without hurting himself

but he does

again

and again

and again

she feels it coming like a tide

#376 has a caribou on it

the man on the street corner strums an acoustic guitar with his defunct cell phone

he's good but not great

and no one notices

their city eyes avoid his

afraid he'll nuisance them by asking for change

but of the 3 million people in the city around them

3 million people believe we need change

the city needs a change more than the man needs change

#375 how easily we could omit the "Q"

i'm a strange breed

autodidactic-wannabe bibliophile

dipthongs on a page excite me as much as thongs on a beach

though in different ways

words

the way they sound and look

the way they affect the other known senses

and the unknown

black on white

word on paper

26 letters

that's all we have to pass our knowledge to the next generations

and it all matters

the content, the appearance, the font choice
all of it

#374 Dove-soap and friction

if i gouge out my eyes

hollow out the sockets with a spoon

i would still see him

he is part of me

for the simple fact

i try so hard to omit him

he is not on my skin anymore

but he always will be part of me

because i'll want to wash him off

he used to make Forever seem too short

now it's an eternity

#373 signs of the times

decades after the 5-man band

shared their lyrics

the scenery is blocked up more than ever

school-busses, washrooms, everywhere

if a man needs a sign to warn him

"slippery when wet"

or "caution" at the top of a scenic cliff

he has bigger problems

the more signs we have, the less they mean

the bigger and brighter they need to be to stand out

a society bill-bored to death

liability, marketability, irritability

what about responsibilty and morality

if you reach a T-stop

do you need the stop sign

we've reached a point

when we need to stop the signs

#372 tunnel mountain vision

two acoustics occupy a corner:

hers leaning into his

both worn at the third fret, years of jamming together

his strings curling in all four directions of a compass, like the hair on his face

her's trimmed and fashionable, like the styles in her closet

and behind the stringed instruments, mountains

still pushing up, up, for millions of years

with an ocean out of sight, somewhere behind, but always there

and the guitars cuddle on the stand in their corner of the room

and the couple cuddles on the couch in their corner of time

#371 grey

i scan our vast continent

subtract the grey and brown

and little is left

shades of grey and boredom dominate the landscape

natural and built from human brain

the birds the plants the fish

all shades of unexciting grey

grey clouds fill grey skies that meet grey landscapes at grey horizons

and i am amazed at how countless shades of grey

can fill me with awe

#370 stemming problems

flowers on a table falsify the feeling

and cheer acts like a main-street false-front.

the difference between changing and hiding

subtle but profound.

flowers won't undo stress

or tension or hurtful words.

not even a big colourful easter bouquet.

#369 living room and life

a living room over full of furniture and scattered dishes

a to-do list that is lapping me

a fridge-front full of magnets lists and appointment cards

i stare at it all

rise

to throw out a a chair

#368 oh march

the seasons battle

winter refuses hibernation

and spring scrambles to the top

a child's game, king-of-the-castle

dirty roads

patches of green and yellow and brown and white

#367 fort walls and fridge-tops

when couch cushions are fort walls

and the pots cupboard is a secret planet

the fridge-top a mystery

and father's billfold sacred

his shaving, beyond entertainment, a reverent idol
when does that time end

#366 sermon

they file in each week

sunday best

and leave with stiff weekly laughs and smiles

go home and fight and argue and ignore for seven days

then return

to leave their guilt under the high-ceiling

for a bigger guiltier expert to deal with

#365 lego

sitting on the living room floor

he builds homes and skyscrapers and stores

entire cities

filled with nice, happy people

people who smile and say "How are you taoday?"

and wait for a response

sitting behind his adult desk

he deals with politics and policies and permits

beauracracy

obstacle-setters, and profit-skimmers

people who say whatever fits the moment

and require a ® every time you write the word

#364 looking up from a window in a valley

oceans call, but mountains insist

and i am drawn, but not stuck

in this mountain valley, i am a vireo's egg in its nest

while the slow metronomic beat of the ocean

forever a mental recording, plays at will

like the sound of rocks receding into water between waves

oceans and mountains

safety and risk

conflict and balance

#363 wet luggage

i laughed the day they pulled her body from the flattened truck

and before the laugh turned to tears

guilt filled me from hair follicle to dark toenail

her body was sitting somewhere to be prepared for viewing

and i was laughing

rushing, hitchhiking to see her corpse

my luggage in the bed of a new pick-up

and the owner stopped to auto-wash his pride and joy

my brain was off and when it turned on

oh sh*t

i jump out to rescue my luggage

that's when the laughter overtook me

the soaking camouflaged my tears

i re-entered the truck

and my ride laughed

and so i laughed

and so guilt took up residence in my body

for years

now i see there is laughter in slaughter

there must be

Happiness fights everyday in this world

formidable opponents

Guilt, Jealousy, Overambition

and Laughter helps her

by hiding in slaughter

#362 "new inheritors"

we failed

our biggest contribution was technology

faster and smaller

but spiritual

we ran backwards

and dropped you in a void, a vacuum

this was not our intention

we've performed miracles

travel the globe in hours

send waves of information even faster

built answers to everything at the touch of a button

but miracle is an old word now

like cholera or modem or family-table

and our old silly gods

replaced by Google and Laptop and cell phone

and if you don't worship them

you're considered old-fashion, out-of-date, silly

i think we've done enough with Technology

i hope you move on to bigger and better

#361 me vs. morning me

i sit, breathe

breakfast at a table free of clutter

first time in years

and i swear

this starts a new habit

(as i've sworn in the past)

the alarm is a catastrophe, shattering my sleeping world

hurled into the world of the wake

responsibilities and deadlines and duties

i find the snooze button

and swim toward the warm world of sleep

i'll get up early tomorrow

#360 surroundings

sunlight plays still on the walls that contain me

boring browns and oppressive objects occupy the room and the soul

everywhere i look i see undone to-do list items

i was excited about life and i will be again someday

but not today

not today

#359 my yellow runners

blood flows through, worries flow out

total miles grow bigger, personal problems grow smaller

laps around street blocks, help overcome mental blocks

i untie the laces

feeling unsuffocated

return to phone and forms and files

i smile

i breathe...

ready

#358 overcast

unwelcome rains change plans

outdoors to in, walking to driving

but people need rain

not just to water food

but there is something about a rain

nourishing souls after drought

rolling from waterproof bodies

into thirsty ground

leaving something behind beyond dampness and cold

taking with it

negative fixations and a miasma of memory

Earth turns the stagnant into something digestible

#357 outside the ktunaxa casino

spirits lie outside the grave picket fence

unadmitted for perceived sin

forced to the outside

by those that brought them to it

#356 file 63 of 472

a day wasted

penance for earlier procrastination

today, cleaning and organizing seem full of fun and temptation

my mind wanders from the task at hand to the dust-bunnies under the bed down the hall

i plod, i type, i gripe and complain

and i swear never again

#355 minor thoughts

today's song fills its listener with minor chords and wrist-slittingly introspective lyrics

i don't know how the song will end or if there's another on my playlist

but the guitar's sad strings are attached to more than my vocal chords

i don't know how long i can be this alive, this aware

it hurts

soon i'll follow society

turn up the tv or turn on the computer

mute my soul and click my mind OFF

we've overslept, achieved nothing

and what's worst, types the poet from his self-righteous laptop

what's worst

we are content

#354 take two

i sit on the stairs

undisturbed

for two minutes

an unnoticed observer

absorbing voices and footsteps and silences

adult feeling like a child in a cupboard

i need these moments

to gain energy

before rejoining the action of the house

adding my voice and my footsteps

for footsteps and voices will pass unnoticed

when I refill my role

#353 watching the oven door

rickety ladders and i climb apple trees

ladders greyed by wind and rain and time
tiptoeing from an upper rung

i roll the stem into my thumb

separating apple from tree

adding to my sobey's bag

i walk up the hill

the porch enters me into the kitchen

mum exclaims at my loot

locates her paring knife and two big bowls

adds salt and water for the pie parts

the empty one for jelly ingredients

an hour later

i perform my other part of pie-making

choo-choo fork tracks

allowing heat to escape in the oven

then she spits on them with butter

an old family trick

deep-dish pies enter the oven

and i smile

old enough to enter the woods alone

young enough to stare through a translucent door at an oven light

wishing time would bring me fresh pie just a bit faster

#352 "I hope you're not lonely"

there is a place

a place on the mountain

and in the centre, is a cabin

unknown by society

used by fortunate hunters

stay here says the cabin

there is rot and decay and disrepair

and a familiar, warm, reverent sense of home

and i'm tempted

live in the moment

earn my next meal by hand

use the night air as a duvet over my sleeping bag

leave paleness and society's brain-chatter in the valley below

but i keep moving

#351 march 14th

a translucent sheet covers all

above, a blue ceiling

blue blue

and the sun warm on the head

melts the sheet for the day

today, tv is not allowed

indoors is forbidden

walk, bike, run

play

#350 paint by numbers

the room sat empty

then primer attacked nostrils

new colour, new hue, new light

brushes rollers and dropsheets veil for now...

barking canine duo?

atomic #79 around the proximal phalange of a fourth digit?

3am feedings too?

walls and spirits collect and reflect sunshine

the colours fit

not puritan, as intended

but just right

just right

#349 always fresh

the two couples in the corner

four cold paper cups

having a one-of-a-kind conversation

again

this time its horses and technology

"ol John Weysmith, he knew his horses."

"yuh."

a pause, formerly filled by drags, before modern legislation

"reminds me of that there donkey. on the youtube. killed the," leans to other guy, "fuckin' cougar. a donkey!"

two foamer hats, angled high, and lots of plaid

and wrinles and make-up

sitting together in a true canadian postcard moment

#348 beyond face value

we save it

waste it

kill it

watch it pass by

savour it

maximize it

live it

we pass it by

it's on our side and against us

it's ahead of us and behind us

more than tics or tocs on clocks

more than breaths in a life

it's time:

grab it by the scrotum and make the most of it

#347 focus

digital ones make old-fashion clicks

snapping the present

to adjust the future and change the past and its memories

zoom, airbrush, modify light

make the truth what you want

a lie

#346 do the due

what motivates like a deadline?

we say we hate them

but do we really?

self-imposed deadlines

kudos to people who can do them

for me that's like decorative chocolate

deadlines don't make me do my best

but they make me do

#345 take two twice a day

Monday, he moved to a condo

paid for his 1st groceries and rent:

confident and going on 23

Today, he strips in a chapel

wearing a 2nd-hand iPod and a smile:

paranoid and gone off meds

#344 THE END

i believed you

but you added

Honestly. and i saw unfaithful

sheets heard polygamouswhispers smelled deceitful pheromones

#343 two lovers at an old kitchen table

two bodies roll and push and pull and fall exhausted

fast-forward 60 years

they sit in familiar silence

one thinks about the last siege of grandchildren, smiling

the other thinks of that night

and how good life is

and how simple

#342 respecting age

inside wrinkles, grey hairs and stooped backs live children and stories and lessons we used to respect before youth formed a dictatorship

#341 home alone

no voices, no laughter

no hum of the heater, or draft from opening doors

no feet on the stairs, or bums on the couch

no singing, no guitar

like a skier on a triggered slab of snow in an avalanche

i know this moment of peace will end

and below is tumultuous darkness

and i hope they find me

#340 unfollowing an ugly choice

defy your spirit

broken glass and gauze

defile and define your self

smoke and drown ignore the compass

redefine your self

whispers and blue skies

re-find your spirit

wispy clouds and spectrums in the sky

#339 what's in a name

"Can we play a round-robin," asked Dan

but Robin protested to standing alone at center

Mohammed is the most popular name on Earth,

let's take a break, how 'bout a little Less-hommed

I usually refuse to read this at open mic's

and on behalf of all shy Mikes

#338 deadlines

with barn-size plans and a free clock

no commitments and no demands

i prepare to start

but first i'll take a rest

and then it's bedtime

and i say i needed a rest,

i'll start tomorrow

and then i sleep in

and putter and eat and relax

and before i know

bedtime's here again

then i sleep in again

by now, i'm down about how the weekend treated me

i mope

and then, i do all the necessaries

and go back to bed

and as my weekend finishes i think,

i'll get up extra early tomorrow

#337 the old place

the sound of the train calls to the empty house and its dust-filled stories

where once a table was the hub, now its creaks bash the silence

the stairs that once carried little ones and big ones to breakfasts and bathrooms and more

now sag and droop from loneliness

the swingset stands, rust creeping up its legs, past the high grass that chokes its memories of laughter and insignificant tears

#336 the everyday

the hum of the the highway

melts into the soundtrack of my everyday

along with fridge's hum

and the inhale and exhale of my circulatory system

and her

the voice, the actions, the presence

the love

#335 corduroy duvet

there is a bed

a simple bed

where i end each day

interlocking with my familiar seraph like the tongue-and-groove beneath

and the stress and the peeves and the annoyances and the undone to-do list

dissolve

into my pillow

where they morph into sleep's mind-stories

interrupted only breaths at a time

long enough to see who's beside me and to smile at no one

and to drift back