978-1-56689-128-8
$14.95
96 pages
6 x 9
Paperback Poems

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You Never Know
Excerpt

Fairy Tale

The little elf is dressed in a floppy cap
and he has a big rosy nose and flaring white eyebrows
with short legs and a jaunty step, though sometimes
he glides across an invisible pond with a bonfire glow on his cheeks:
it is northern Europe in the nineteenth century and people
are strolling around Copenhagen in the late afternoon,
mostly townspeople on their way somewhere,
perhaps to an early collation of smoked fish, rye bread, and cheese,
washed down with a dark beer: ha ha, I have eaten this excellent meal
and now I will smoke a little bit and sit back and stare down
at the golden gleam of my watch fob against the coarse dark wool of my vest,
and I will smile with a hideous contentment, because I am an evil man,
and tonight I will do something evil in this city!

Embraceable You

I don't mind Walt Whitman's saying"I contain
multitudes," in fact I like it,
but all I can imagine myself saying is
"I contain a sandwich and some coffee and a throb."
Maybe I should throw my arms out and sing,
"Oh, grab hold of everything and hug tight!
Then clouds, books, barometer, eyes wider
and wider, come crashing through
and leave me shattered on the floor,
a mess of jolly jumping molecules!"

The Sweeper

I like to sweep the floor
with a cornstraw broom
and watch the dust mass up
and move along
each time I swing the broom.
I like the swoosh and scratch
along the boards
that brighten up as I go by.
And when I have a pile
that's big enough, I nudge it
in the dustpan, this way
and that, until it's all aboard,
except a thin line of dust
that can't be smaller.
Tough little dust! I raise
the broom up high and bring
it down and past the line
to make a gust and then
the tiny dust is gone. I love
my pan of big new dust.

The Woodpecker Today

The wings of the red-headed woodpecker flashed white as he landed on the deck rail, well fed and magisterial, and rattled off a quick succession of pecks. Then he hopped and drilled again, paused and drilled, then raised his head and turned his neck to the left, as if to receive a message from the sky. Then he sprang into the air and flew around the side of the house. There were two brief bursts of drilling, then silence.

While he was drilling the rail, I recalled an article that explained why woodpeckers don't get headaches. Apparently their skulls are lined with a spongy material that cushions the shock, a structure that resembles that of a football helmet. In fact, the article stated, modern football helmet design owes something to the woodpecker. As these thoughts ran through my head, for a moment I saw a small helmet materialize on the woodpecker's head-a silver Detroit Lions helmet. I hope he comes back. I would like to get the entire uniform on him.

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