As he started to climb down, a twig snapped below them. They froze. Something’s being dragged through the underbrush.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

A Christmas sort of poem

Those of you who are weird enough to appreciate my poetry check the latest out at the tag poetry. Work in progress of course.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Zelda re-re dux


It Gets Worse

I'd almost made it out the door.

Going somewhere?

Me?

You're skipping town again, aren't you?

Me?

Zelda grabbed my shirt tail and yanked.
I huff and puff and yank back.
You are out of line this time, sister
He wants no part of me
My cave is waiting
My muse is beckoning

Zelda is not amused
Your fucking muse is just bored.
Last night in Valhalla?
She spun the bottle and let it land on you. Ha!  You're it.
Lucky you
You get to write the play the gods are waiting for
And while you're writing it
He's gone.

Happy now?

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Last Tango

I went to find Zelda
She had been off the screen for months
And we missed her.
I found her
Hunched over a martini
In a bar that revolved high above the City
Slowly, but with determination.

She did not look up.
Zelda!  I cried.
Come back to the dance
You left mid-tango.  He misses you.
She took a long pull on her drink and
Gazed out over the City.
My fingers touched her wet cheek.
Why, Zelda?
Because, Babe,
She smiled at me through her tears,

He ate my big fish. 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

A short Zelda. More to come

Flowers
11/07


I go to the farmers’ market with Zelda.
She buys flowers
For her lover’s ex-lover
And sends them
Via UPS
Squashed into a nine-by-eleven manila envelope.
She agreed after considerable debate,  not

To include a note.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Zelda's Back

Sometimes I wish for the days of Nick and Nora, Fred and Irene, Miss Piggy and Miss Peel.

The Real thing  (6/28/14)

She arrives as usual in a fur coat
Sable I think
Tosses it to the hat check girl
Along with her Tiparillos, which are no longer acceptable
She stops
Pulls a lipstick from her tiny clutch
Presses it to her carmine lips
Pouts
And follows Germaine to her usual table.
At least this is how I remember it.
Zelda is no longer the center of attention. But
Only because the attention is on lesser things.
When did we wobble away from the diamond?
Why have we settled for the simulated topaz?
How could Georges not be there
Dancing in attendance?
Where is the music
The white tie
The tails
The rhythm?
Zelda settles gracefully at my table.
You're mouldering little one.
The world has not changed.
Elegance is in the mind.
The little people have never acquired the knack and will never
Be able to strip us of it.
Elegance isn't a matter of giving but of receiving.
It is a generosity of spirit that embraces the outliers, the undertakers, the fishmongers
Even the plumbers
And knows them to be interesting because they are human.
Elegance even allows the poor blighters who wave the banner of elegance in defiance of the truth
To exist.
So said Zelda
Before her first sip.

You can imagine what she had to say after the second.

Monday, July 7, 2014

Zelda ReTurns


She arrives as usual in a fur coat
Sable I think
Tosses it to the hat check girl
Along with her Tiparillos, which are no longer acceptable
She stops
Pulls a lipstick from her tiny clutch
Presses it to her carmine lips
Pouts
And follows Germaine to her usual table.
At least this is how I remember it.
Zelda is no longer the center of attention. But
Only because the attention is on lesser things.
When did we wobble away from the diamond?
Why have we settled for the simulated topaz?
How could Georges not be there
Dancing in attendance?
Where is the music
The white tie
The tails
The rhythm?
Zelda settles gracefully at my table.
You're mouldering little one.
The world has not changed.
Elegance is in the mind.
The little people have never acquired the knack and will never
Be able to strip us of it.
Elegance isn't a matter of giving but of receiving.
It is a generosity of spirit that embraces the outliers, the undertakers, the fishmongers
Even the plumbers
And knows them to be interesting because they are human.
Elegance even allows the poor blighters who wave the banner of elegance in defiance of the truth
To exist.
So said Zelda
Before her first sip.

You can imagine what she had to say after the second.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

What do you do with a life uninterrupted? A life filled with adventure but never broken up by love? A life full of events, awards, adventures, but no reason to appreciate them? No one waiting at the door after the last interview to say, I missed you.