Monthly Archives: November 2014

Stuffing

We played soccer while the turkey slow cooked,
with the Mexicans from the kitchen who
half wanted to celebrate their newfound
Americanness and half were happy
just to have a full day off finally.
We watched football later in the day and
wondered if there were more traditional
sports that could be played, the Pilgrims’ ping-pong,
Columbus’ lacrosse, a Viking type
of tennis, snowballs thrown over the bow
of a long ship after a lengthy trip
into the unknown, some ancient native
game, perhaps, something lost forever to
time and race and smallpox and translation.

Diamond

We’ve cut pieces of the earth up as stars,
a great pretending where each outstretched hand
is a stand-in for the sun. Watch how the
flowers grow as we pass our thin fingers
over them; see the petals drink in our
life, green all around and through, down to the
roots; admit you feel the warmth that breathes out
from this fist, pulsates with each cold hand shook.
And like the stars it is born from blackness,
cast out from nothingness by nothingness,
an entity existing to exist.
We wear rocks that cannot smudge, with no grime
or dust ever upon them, though still they
dirty our hands even as they light them.

Ice Cream

There are only so many flavors of
sex, the best always the original
recipes, homemade concoctions meant to
combine all your favorite tastes in one
sugary mouthful. The metaphor can
extend to toppings and creaminess, high
and low quality, scoop size, brand and price,
but all I care about is how nice it
makes me feel, life’s little dessert, a sweet
release at the end of a too-long day.
It doesn’t need to be gourmet, so long
as it melts at the right temperature,
and every so often I would love
to be allowed to have it for breakfast.

Election Day Haiku

No sonnet today,
but don’t let that crushing news
stop you from voting!