hoosegow

a night of drunken revelry
a car filled
with mild-mannered hooligans
high as hell from
youthful trangressions
and youthful exuberance
rebels of rabble-rousers
raising the roof
of my ancient Caddy
and I,
on dreaded designated driver duty,
was convinced that their
hootin' and a'hollerin'
was gonna end with us all
going to the hoosegow
as we coasted
down the hill
past the police station
through a red light
my breaks giving out
despite feverish pumping
at 4 in the morning
on an autumn day
so long ago
it could have been a dream

categorical

information overload
news cycle bombardment
we need the feed
like a junkie needs smack
it overwhelms
and disarms
and lends false power
but lacks context
the screen divided
by partisan foes
shouting non sequiturs
and in this garbled jargon
we are meant
to become literate
to discern the world
and learn our place in it
see the world in fragments
through bitter dialectics
as told by shills and hucksters
with hatred and fear
toting agendas aplenty
and yet
in the hubbub and hullabaloo
where little rings as true
this remains categorical
love gives the better view

bunkum

in a fortress made of pillows
in a patois made for two
we jest and joke and josh
and whisper tendernesses
in silly accents
with screwball faces
whiling away the tick of time
in blarney and bunkum and blather
and by giggles and gaffaws
joyfully turn tomorrows into yesterdays

stringent

Manners are our friends
Guiding us faithfully
In a world of mass confusion
And odd complexity.
But, if we stringently adhere
To our own detriment;
We can cut off any feeling
And kill all sentiment.
So say your "please and thank yous"
And let kindness win the day,
But tell the wankers "Go to hell"
When there is no other way.
For manners are a guideline
And should always be used first,
But some people don't deserve them
For some people are the worst.

interpellate

to be certain
to be sure
we pour over policy
interpellate authority
looking for loopholes
we
research
write
review
revise
each letter
dash
and dot
those I's
cross those T's
and plan
and plan
and plan again
all this we do
to be certain
but silly us
no certainty
in life
is found
and so instead
we must embrace
this lucky dip
this steeplechase
we run and race
and jump and fall
get up again
and though it all
we never know
when it will end
so hold my hand
as we run along
or stroll
or amble...it matters not
this race will not be won
but together
we may enjoy the greens
and help each other
over and around the obstacles
or stop and have a picnic
for finishing first
is no desirable distinction

apprehension

like a shadow distorted
stretched and contorted,
a creaking squeaking
floorboard followed
by a muffled thud,
the wailing whistles
of wind in the cracks
of broken down clapboards
and their thwap as they slap against
chipped and dingy peeling siding -
like every ominous overtone,
every melodramatic shriek,
every swell of sinister score -
all of it -
every horror movie indicator
of imminent disaster -
like all of these
is the apprehension
in his eyes
as she pauses
and looks away.

precarious

Alone,
I felt
like a chick
in an eyrie;
safe in my
precarious prison perch
balanced on high
save for the solitude
eroding me inside
but then
you flew to me
landed beside
and showed me
I had wings, too,
on which I could
soar
alongside you
if only
I would let go
and leap.