Full Moon Fire

Tonight in a full moon’s reflection,

 I saw your house erupt into flames…

Across the cove on Camano Isle,

Tragic victims, as of now, no names.

All the neighbor’s lights twinkled,

Like Novas in the night sky…

Golden windows mirrored on the water;

Tomorrow’s news may tell us why.

These beautiful islands created by,

Glacial chaos carving the earth…

The chaotic glow of your fire tonight,

Reduced us, to insurance worth.

You’ve watched my windows at sunrise,

And I yours, during each sunset…

I feel like a planet exploded tonight,

I'll miss you, though we’ve never met.

Reality Adjustment

I laugh at my old friend’s photos

Who have aged and look like shit…

Pretending I’ve escaped their fate,

And haven’t aged a bit.

Yet deep inside, I’m saddened,

All the fat and loss of hair…

Guilty living, without mirrors

Pretending I am not yet there.

Our lives weren’t always easy,

Lost money, jobs, the trust of others…

We fought to be just somebody

Out doing our dads and mothers.

At times there was no justice,

Parents buried some old friends first…

Chiseling away my arrogance;

We survived our youth and worse.

I respect now old friend’s wrinkled fat,

Also each well-earned gray hair…

I celebrate all the current photos;

We’ve so little time to spare.

I’m meeting friends for lunch today,

There’s a great buffet in the mall…

I miss my parents like an orphan,

And became them after all.

.

Dew Drop Inn

Miller, South Dakota   1969

Thanksgiving at the Dew Drop Inn,

Campbell’s Soup in the coffee pot;

Two college kids absent from friends

Who time and cheap wine forgot.

We added another can of soup;

Chicken Noodle, in the percolator.

Harmonizing some oldie tunes,

On a quarter-fed, bed vibrator.

We awoke to the whitest morning,

As trucks skied past on the interstate,

Heading home for their celebrations;

There were turkeys who couldn't wait.

We decided to build a snowman

On the Dew Drop Inn’s snowy lawn,

But he soon turned into a woman,

Proportioned much like an Amazon.

She was adorned with giant bosoms,

Carrot nipples on each breast…

Every trucker honked, the cops arrived;

Our Thanksgiving spirit put to rest.

Forest Fires

Always it’s the righteous man,

Under god, and flying stealth…

When given ample lengths of rope

Will eventually hang himself.

Most of the rabid book burners

Hide porno on their shelves…

Give them enough crosses;

They will crucify themselves.

I’ve seen too many tall trees,

Burn down to smoke and ash…

As weak men cover trails

With a single safety match.