011421b

 

the bus 

becomes an RV

slowly

041520d

Tollhouse cookies
smelling up the house
she's retiring soon

020320c

His axe rarely leaves the toolshed now
Living on social security is rough
Babe eats so much
He had to sell her
Hopes her new owners are giving her
Her favorite quinoa treats
And didn't instead rent a meat locker
He's even trying to sell his house
"High ceilings," the listing says
That ain't the half of it.

051217

Putting old eggs out to pasture

Eh, what? HD asked,

trumpet stuck in ear;

he seemed bewildered,

as if imagining

toast, crisp rashers,

bygone beauties on the side,

sunny sides up,

draperies glistening

in the morning sun.

He's off his game, Benedict

whispered—then slipped

back into his shell.

We have safe places

set aside to effectuate

our absolution,

or so I believe,

slapping buttermilk disks

griddle-ward,

refracturing the Royal fast.

This must be some kind of mis-

began the soft-boiled prevarication

-communication, your lingo

c a b e

s r m l d

came the reply,

too easy,

over the good-egg

network. It's down

to this:

HD's insurance ran out

just when doctors were about to try

a revolutionary

new glue.

Star*line, 2011