Thirteen Reasons and an Aside
Where a pond once was is dried mud and tall
yellow-green grass memories of ducks swimming idly.
Before we had ancestors we were self-made;
now we are all commas.
Charlene never was much for reasons but she has a mole
on her left shoulder-blade that became a tattoo.
In the winter we sleep more, dream less,
and neglect punctuation.
You were gin to my vermouth she said
but we both knew I was an olive.
You can take the boy out of the country
but you can’t bring him back unless he’s white.
Attitude varies inversely with altitude
unless it’s a directly variance day.
You have aged well, they say
meaning they see you’re still alive.
Tall buildings like tall ships and mountains
pretend to wait for us so we’ll chase them.
A heap or a pyramid? a beaver planning committee
discusses its next obstruction.
The witnesses concur; they did not, could not have
and wouldn’t say if they could
see the murder in the greenhouse.
Boring days, even bad days are tolerable;
good days are unbearable.
I didn’t mean it. Honest. I was thinking of someone else.
You just happened to be there.
At last! I could never have guessed
unless I had never tried.
2 Responses to “Thirteen Reasons and an Aside”
“I was thinking of someone else.
You just happened to be there” is a lot of poetry in a tight little ball. As is the rest of this.
Thanks, bro! I tend to write poems wrapped like baseballs.