Christmas 2010

I was not aware of Christmas
Or of its bells & dreams
But an attack of snow just now

Wakened me
I labor intensive against drifts
Against waves of white

With a whale of a story
Shoaling cars trees homes
But do not call me Ahab

Call me Claus . . . Santa Claus
Shaken like a snow globe
Stirred like a frothy punch

I hunt happiness
Through snowballs ice & snowflakes
A steaming pod of dreams pluming

North South East West
Thar she blows!
I am Kringle . . . Kris Kringle

Leaf History

I no longer care who I am
Nor express my veins

Or what I was
I no longer aspirate

Quick wind will make a change
I hang about & wait

Fall

I have no view
The rain the wind the silver sightings

Express dreams express showers
Strong winds to come to obscure

A leaf the edges of me
Toss bending with every gust

To Those Who Think The Yankees Are Overpaid

Counting: 15 out of 16 years past
to Yankee playoff possibility:

Pirates? Padres? And The Indians, e.g.?
(the list of small- & medium-market
teams & venues is as long as owners' ledgers
& a dis-service to fans)

So don't argue:

That your team owners may be committed
to money to profit not to bases counted
or games won: to profit sharing
& so much for quality & parity

Some teams are designed to contend
others merely to make money

Summer Sunset - New York City, July 2010 [#1]

Summer Sunset - New York City, July 2010 [#2]

Summer Sunset - New York City, July 2010 [#3]

Sunset/Reflection

The sun strong

Setting orange-hot variable
is a shaft-of-hand offered
laid down with imperative

To step onto sea-pocked
electrum memory to go
to where the sun argues . . .

The Intrepid, West Side Drive, New York City - June 8, 2010

West Side Drive Looking South, New York City - June 8, 2010

Gino

Excessive but alive
Even when gambling

With cards time future
Gino knew

The wax gates & run off
Of bronze & little things
Otherwise forgotten

Then suddenly furious
He'd sweep an oak table clean
Declaring "This is shit!"

Brushing all off away &
After lunch his observations
Explosive amid plaster molds

With plastic cup with white wine
With gravelly remarks

He sometimes exaggerated
Sometimes jeweled

But always with pride & patina
His work & word cast finished

A Tough Place To Be

A tough place to be

Is the pitcher's mound
10 inches higher than home plate
wheel work hub
of an elongated arch of bases

A tough place to be

When fans cameras & commentators
descend centered on a dome of earth
on an arm & delivery
to a hub/to home plate

A tough place to be

When all works or doesn't
head & heart mind & body
focused this moment
a pitcher on the mound is

A tough place to be

This Season

This new season fans fresh
Cards & fantasy leagues lush
Etched stroked boasted

In any hemisphere any ballpark
Any afternoon or evening dark

Of baseball thinking & reacting
The art of pitching
Or sudden art of bat

In any hemisphere any ballpark
Any afternoon or evening dark

Arguments mouthed at a bar
a workplace or home are
part'n'parcel of baseball

In any hemisphere any ballpark
Any afternoon or evening dark

Is baseball feted
Appetite whetted

Chappaqua Tree Stand

At a MetroNorth stop
cocoons monolithic
backlit by western sun
no longer trees

Now

Consumed wood-bones
armatures hidden
by a bright sunlt
smother of green ivy

Religion, Not Faith

There is no consumption
like religion
a "speak to me" institution

resolving everything
contritely buttoning
light & dark ongoing

life & ambition enveloping
into a pocket conveniently

In My Neighborhood (She Knows She's Crazy)

She knows she's crazy
On her meds staggering around
With dog in tow

She knows sometimes
Sitting on my stoop
Talking to herself then to the dog

About neigborhood
About her missed opportunities
About love missed

And she cries
As eastbound traffic swoops by
Then lurches off

Dragging dog memories
Following the traffic

A Knife Like No Other

A knife like no other
Tip'n'tang bone'to'handle

And a handle to hold onto
To hold on to a thought

The handle itself courteous
Carved of you so rare a dream

New Age

'Twas the time

Of posting gratuitous email
of facebook and of such
of shoaling up mentally like snow
against & over cars burying them

. . . & aren't we glad

To escape humanity hugely
like great waterbirds running
the surface winging flapping
scooping up to an overview

. . . & aren't we glad

Of white clumps mounds below
of undefined shadows
ignoring a waving hand
insignificant amid the chatter