Best Smocks Poems

What’s fair is fair

I walked into Macys Department Store the other day
thinking I’d buy a few items for the summer
I entered on the first floor...

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Drop cloth dreams  


It has been found that given enough time
failure will find this destined loser
lurking in gallery tints
and watercolor fault lines

semi gloss replaced...

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Once the name of *Lord Ram is rammed in your heart
Everything you’ve -fortune, freedom, fullness and fame
To act in the situations of pleasure, pain, loss...

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Yet at this very moment the cathedral was crumbling
down upon the cries of foresaken refugees, 
the monastery's walls wobbling from war's wreckage, 
and as the...

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Imitation! Creative Compliment, Lacking in Originality, or Plagiarism? 

This week takes me back to college days. I was taking a graduate course (as a Physics...

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*Image of Dr. Harold Shipman by Film Daily.

Dr. Harold Shipman: Judge & Executioner: REVISED

The D.A. hoped
a tenth suffice
although they moped
much more be nice
but after all
who'll...

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J ackets made of wool and wearing heavy socks

A nother winter Jack Frost has come to visit 

C onstant protection with hand made smocks

K eeping...

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Everyone in town knows
Philmon is a mad scientist
It's not his little hunchback buddy
Or the crazy smocks in which he's always dressed

It's not the lighting clouds...

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Everyone in town knows
Philmon is a mad scientist
It's not his little hunchback buddy
Or the crazy smocks in which he's always dressed

It's not the lighting clouds...

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Cousin Donald Comes to Town ...

Elroy was all cock-a-hoop cos
cousin Donald was a-comin'
a visiting & they were so darn
chuffed & tremblin' in anticipation
that friday night...

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Should I, mere a rabbit of sand, shiny hair,
sport a shock of fur mired in clay,
they from gofer mounds, propped on to peer, would sound...

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Are There Angels?

There are angels in the city
Angels in the trees
An angel in your pocket
Pick any one of these
There are angels in your backseat
Angels on...

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Everyone in town knows
Philmon is a mad scientist
It's not his little hunchback buddy
Or the crazy smocks in which he's always dressed

It's not the lighting clouds...

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Listening
As grooves whirl
A familiar track,
Once familiar refrains
Recall the vintage
Of innocence.

Scratched
In almost forgotten places,
The sound is altered ...
Yet I hear a cadence of the time
When sweet...

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In A Suburban Paradise

I was to spend hours on my bed 
writing short stories in 1967;
with my left leg dangling over the left side, 
I...

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