Long Wastepaper Poems

The faded afterglow of a life passing through mid-age is also wrapped with an expected pattern of probable uncertainties. The moments that can ignite true spark, are not numerous, neither are those absent. The known...

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Oh wow. Oh look. Over there. A fish tank is jumping through a hoop. Now that is a sight. How rather remarkable and just how agile. Wish I was young said the ancient log. But...

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Pumped

Reams of paper sit upon my desk accordioned untidily, dimpled where the cat stood or sat too long. The wastepaper basket was full of crumbled balls, reflecting the topography of the Nepali  adventure ...

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Magazines have captured us and taken us hostage. We were easy.
Not realizing how fast they multiply.  We are up in our knees in them now.
They must have litters overnight, maybe in the daytime also....

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The book lies open
discarded notes
framing the corner

your room so quaint
pictures hang
askew!
 
You carefully smile
avoiding
guarding

You have learned to guard

a wastepaper basket
full of nothing, so you say

wrinkled corners peak
over the edge

You silently wring your hands
trying to hide

To...

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A barrel of oink is a snout snaffling. Order of pig sect of oink. In a pink summersaulting cartwheeling ham chunk. Wee wee weeeee. Rolling. Hilltop. Hollybush road. Rhododendron. Raid bit trade. Road not noted....

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