Honor Among Thieves

Seagulls have a conscience,
Sensing to do what’s right…
Neither biting the hand that feeds them,
Nor painting the server white.

Touching Infinity

By day his world is minuscule,
200 dark and dank square feet…
A rusted out Airstream Trailer,
No longer worthy for the street.

Each hour his world grows smaller,
Wood interiors warp with age…
His diary entries grow shorter,
Time daily, turns another page.

Yet every night for thirty years,
Ron drives out to the beach,
Staring at the crushing waves,
Until the sun is out of reach.

He escapes the trailer's confines...
Focusing on horizons past the sea,
Touching, for at least an hour,
The universe, and infinity…

My Neighbor in the Trailer Park

My neighbor in the trailer park,
Speaks little to the others and me…
A fisherman called “Buddy”,
He is a slave to the fickle sea.

A quiet hermit in off seasons,
Fish and tourists chart his map,
He’s recognized by his personal logo;
The fish-hooked bills on baseball caps.

Winter finds him random boat jobs,
From Lincoln City to Yaquina,
Summers find him riding limos,
Steering trollers from the marina.

Taking a break...

This is the view from my window this evening where I am staying. Otis loves being back home. I am working on more passages, so stay tuned.

Snail Tipping

The dew forms on the orchard,
In the evening with daylight slipping,
Otis fine tunes his curious snout
For a night of snail tipping.

He scans the pavement and the grass,
Like a powerful vacuum cleaner…
Detouring at the sight of a snail,
Humiliating the mollusk’s demeanor.

As if to make a statement,
Refusing to share a common ground,
Otis never leaves a snail alone,
Until it’s upside down.

Light Years

Otis lives an entire decade,
Each minute we walk our rounds,
He hears a thousand new noises,
Where others hear barely a sound.

He meets a hundred new people,
Some reflections, on window glass,
The boxer while dragging his master,
Along trails, piers and tall grass.

His inbred, but shortened lifespan,
Creates a cerebral greed…
Stockpiling spontaneous memories,
Fulfilling his every curious need.

A Chihuahua’s life in fifteen years,
Gains knowledge along the way.
Otis garners the same factoids,
Filing a year in one single day.

He blows bubbles in water fountains,
Attacks waves with cat-like feet,
He catches every falling leaf,
Seeking out new joggers each day to meet.

Six months ago I was just a man,
Walking through town without notice.
Now people want my name and address;
I am the man in Oregon, with Otis.

The Ship

Friendships, relationships
Sinking ships into the night.
Partnerships, two passing ships,
Disappearing from our sight.

Picture frames, our mind frames,
A prisoner framed for crime.
A picture, clips of movie frames,
Pertaining to a better time.

Sales slips, frilly lace slips,
Slips on paper, slips on ice,
Slips of the tongue, Freudian slips,
In public, not so nice.

Power trains, wedding gown trains,
Electric trains to train the eye.
Drive trains, colliding trains,
Where trained civilians die.

Partnerships, two passing ships,
A picture, clips of movie frames…
Slips of the tongue, Freudian slips
Power trains, wedding gown trains.

Sinking ships into the night,
Drive trains, colliding trains,
Slips of paper, slips on ice,
Disappearing from our sight.