Grandma could not wait to get her mitts
on her new grandson named Karmen Kay Kits
a first-time grandma at ninety-one
she thought this might be gobs of fun
Her son, Karmen’s first-time father was seventy-two
He hovered over her and the baby, making her feel blue
Suggesting how she should hold the baby’s neck and head
She told him and his wife to go on to bed
They were grumpy and mean, never having put the baby down
She figured they were the most sleep deprived two in town
Suggesting the baby could cry in his own bed did no good
They thought they knew everything, as only new parents could
Grandma could not wait to go home on the plane
Doubt she’ll be eager to get back there again
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two fish in the sea
And I had to find a catfish who took a bite out of me
The waves were crashing, but I still felt his teeth okay.
That murderous fish bit me, then went gliding away.
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two grains of sand
Landed in my bucket when I finally found myself back on dry land.
A frog came over to give me a little understanding and empathy.
The catfish had tried to take a bite out of him too, you see.
Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two steps to my car.
If I had known my leg was going to hurt, I would not have parked so far.
Clyde the catfish got you, eh? An old timer in a fishing hat asked me.
He’s the orneriest and oldest fish in this deep blue sea.
My friend and I were talking about retiring.
I chickened out. I like big money.
She put in her papers.
She is older than me by a year and a half.
I will miss her terribly but I cannot do it yet.
Two weeks at home was two or three days too long for me.
I will go out in a body bag when I am ninety-two.
A vessel for the dreams of humanity,
Both beacon of hope and valley of despair.
Your paradox of silken strength breaks the mighty and humbles the proud,
The fibers of your essence blend in perfection across the contours of our universe.
You are a proud banner of self-sacrifice and badge of personal achievement,
In you we find the image of Platonian perfection.
In you we wrestle with our own mortality.
A crowning jewel of science and industry,
In perfect relief, you expose that which was previously hidden
And make real that which could only be imagined.
Sweeping colors highlight sacred hills and valleys,
And hold that most precious out for hope unreal.
Oh Spandex, I do curse thee in all thy forms.
For you have taken me where I would not have willing gone.
************************************************
92/8 Nylon/Spandex the formula on the tag of my wife's leggings.
Windy day, Thursday afternoon clouds,
going for a drive, smells like rain.
Sky heavy and blue, searching,
pushing you out of my mind today.
SSHHH! Watch him...
There's a man feeding the ducks!
Hear the lake pressing against the shore,
there's resort living across the way.
Going for a walk, looks like rain,
there's no peace from you today.
SSHHH! See them...
Daisy chain islands in the blue waters.
Puffy green dots along the horizon,
isolated among the shimmering main.
Distant thunder, goosing flesh,
going for a swim, sounds like rain.
SSHHH! Hear me...
Leaving memories on the shore of Thursday afternoon...
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