Out of a job

The teacher stands elevated
one two three encyclopedias
volumes cabbage to cyclops
habit to hymen
Rabelais to rotund.

The teacher stands elevated
but turning around sees
that Martha's been eaten by the python
who she had won in the 'Lizzy-at-your-desk-for-a-day' contest
and had been petting rather vigorously.

The remains of Billy,
two sneakers and ankles,
were dangling from the open window
soon disappearing
following the sum of his parts
to a drop.

Dagmara is safely dozing
but the teacher,
budding philosopher,
is still unsure whether or not
dreams can kill.

Jaimee has decided to display
his love for acrobatics
by swinging on the rotating fan
only to be flung dizzy
and crash into the bulletin board;
yes, pushpins can be lethal.

 Elisabeth's eaten peanuts and shouldn't
Phyllis's eaten glue and shouldn't
Fred's shot Lena who's shot Mark.

And so
As fast as you can say
no student was left sitting, standing, listening, copying, note passing,
whispering, attention non-paying, after-me repeating.

And the teacher
and her blackboard scratched
found themselves
out of a job.
i think i'm more of a philosopher.
The rejected sould who does nothing.
How do you play the bills?
Hey, get that darn money out of the way,
be free! be free!
He's doing what i wants to do.
I am head aching,
Milling through
Resting only with you
Who is warm I am cold,
Cold, warmer,
Colder still, and there!
With you and myself.


Gross vole tail salami faced
Greek zen shin.
Equip diver greatly.
Skeet room, fix truce odor.
Dix fang faced BBs!
Yeah! Wow!
Nodes nip nature.
Dial oh load

Your chithuasu

Dogs belong on the ground. I hope they shit in their he shits in her purses purse.

City lights

Is this city destroying itself?
Why are those lights so bright?
A train goes both ways.
Why am I so afraid?

Grob gropped!

I grob gropped a woman today.
I didn't mean to
but we were in the same crowd
and she shimmied past
in front of me
to get a better angle
the band shot of the night.
She shimmied past me.
I was clasping my hands
 in front of me.
And so held back of hands
felt ass!


There are stones,
with one,
your mindfield marking those left once,
one by one,
and for all.
But as you sit here obsessing,
like all,
about the no-good-for-you's,
these, dear,
have gotten you,
held beyond the grave.

Why do you do?

Will I spend my life writing only to read parts to scan for future lyric poems?

40 km/h wind warning

For the ride back, we flew on the breeze; a much anticipated tail wind pleased.

Drawing the gang

They know what's going on.
They've spotted me for sure.
My measured stare gets smirks and a challenging air.
The body parts know when
to cover the current subject of intentful eyes.
The drawing is not over,
but the game is done.
Won, a simple victory,
to the friends across the street.

The storm

The grass lies still
pointed towards the sky,
until a sudden wind
picks up your hair,
blinds and robs you of your face;
sets flowers dancing
at a fast-forward paced jive.

A dog scurries on the side of the road,
a messenger of the storm to come.
His hair flaps backwards,
unable to resist the gusts.
He pauses for a moment
to tell me the news;
though I already know,
so I give him a scratch
and a inquisitive look instead.

He moves on,
crosses the road
and disappears as the wind pushes the rain further.


Kids playing;
sack racing,
wheelbarrow and three-legged,
bodies racing for a ribbon.

Bike trip

Rain, rain, and more rain.
Caused an early start.
We are headed for Red Point.
The ocean is beautiful,
the sand is squeaky on our heels.
I dolphin-dived with Annie,
up and down, down and up.
We stood in a circle and sent
our wishes in sand thrown to the sea.
The audience was great;
they numbered close to 98.
For Annie's birthday,
we ate cake and pie and berries too.
Cat tells the story of the glassblower's son.
We sat by the fire with stories and wine until we,
like the embers, burnt out and slept.