Winter

Sly, inexorable, unrelenting
Sporting an ingratiating smile
Pardoning the air dried Summer laundry
The smoggy Fall rainy days
Ushering a slushy mess
Bidding for bitter winds

Balmy walkways
Leading to entrancement
Perchancing footsteps
Forward motions
Heavy hearty hums
Harmonizing amongst the branches -
Branches beckoning, crackling
Creaking and breaking off
The tree; fat frightened
Shivering shadows as
Headlights hesitantly swish
Their beams across the
Mesh screen

Burnt orange cinders cackle
Laughter provocates musings;
Ruminations. Gumption one
Moment and
Rummaging through
Photographs - folded and filed,
the next.

The whirring second-hand looms
A swarthy sky scales slowly
Combative fluorescents triumph
Momentarily; smoke billowing
The chimney escape
Children titter; peeking; sneaking
Lumbering the stairway
Eavesdropping the mistle -
Toes tipping across the tiles
Toward the lit tree
A cumbersome attempt.

Obsequious apparitions appear
In tween hourings; honoring
Languished others; friends, folk
Tales of old. Nimble neighbors
Bequeath gifts.

A radiant sordid sun rises
Abruptly adhering to nature
Awakening, admonishing slumbers;
Watching, witnessing while tired,
Voiceless, voracious  receivers
Vigorously tear through shiny violet
Wrappings. Slashings; tearings
Beckoning an excited calm.
A quiet, restful peace. Admiring.
Enjoying. Joy.

Argument Poem

Sisters of Fate,

That twinkle
Teetering through twisted
Glances tells quite the tale –

Restraining – I watch the
Strings dangle and tangle
As you twirl them above

One twists sanity into
Tight, professional knots:
These fragile strings cling together
And the innocent impact of it rattles along

Another swings resentment
Through my wilting daffodil fields: Narcissus
Admiring his reflection – drowns. The
Stems contort with the lines of his brow.

Yet another wrenches sincerity against
A cold, quartz palisade: the stakes titter

as life is portioned out amongst us;

Passion for life left unrequited.

Of course, there’s this tiny, delicate, imitative string

Instead of swaying it hangs steady

Controlling its movements,

I tactfully trail alongside

and allot more time;

I untie Atropos' shoe

And watch as she trips;

She reaches for sisters who

Carry on with their dealings.

Series Poem

1965
A carnival on a warm evening;
Getting ready: green-glass
Packaging; fifteen years
Old and hormonal
The cologne became a
Part of him; newly released
And instantly popular he
Doused himself; it seeped
Into his skin – into his
Pores; and seemingly into
His bloodstream: evoking
A raw energy of excitement;
His curly Jewish locks
Curtained his face; Elvis Presley
Mock-sideburns; dark,
Thick sunglasses; a button
Down shirt and khakis; Brut
Mixed with sweat and lavishly
Coated in pheromones; He
Circuitously wandered:
Weaving through neighbors
And fancifully colored rides;
The scent working as
An astute path for a female
Admirer to easily track.

1995
Sitting at the kitchen table
His black leather hat and
Benson and Hedges Menthols
In front of him beside his wallet;
He’d snack on honey roasted
Peanuts and chocolate covered
Pretzels; cans of diet coke. His
Feet: outstretched and folded –
Watching the sci-fi network while
The hamburger helper began to
Boil on the stove. His curly
Jewish locks would struggle
To cover the bald spot
That rested like a yarmulke.
Sweat glistened on his scalp –
Drawing unwanted attention.
Expecting company he would
Retreat to the bathroom and
Gussy up; a comb over; a
Teeth brushing; and Brut.
The scent festooned him and
Trailed the hallway to the living
Room; dinner was almost ready.

2005
At a hotel in Buffalo Grove. His
Nephews Bar mitzvah; family in
From out of town. French toast;
Sausage links that mocked his
Swollen fingers; coffee with one
Cream and one Equal sweetener;
A family portrait to mark the event:
The last one ever taken; sad
Glances from distant relatives;
Looks of pity; his ballooned torso
Over stretching his sweats; sunken,
Puffy eyes; brut cologne overlaid
The stench of him: unable to bathe
Himself – he doused. His black and
Gray Jewish locks veiled his bald
Spot; he playfully topped with a
Yarmulke – defeated.