Monday, February 13, 2017

 

One Christmas


the Army gave me
a five-pound box of nuts.

Put it under my bunk
and took it out every once
in a while to chew.

Meditatively. The box
announcing, first, its provenance.

Something like 

Nut Assortment. Grade-A, M1 A1

and on and on in chains of numbers.
Stenciled.

Every system must put nuts
in their place.

The sitting and chewing was not
a social act. Other troopers distantly

doing their things. Blurs. Well, any life
lends definitions of loneliness.

One of mine.

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Friday, May 23, 2014

 

Wax and the Lady


It’s hard to address a waxy box. Nothing writes on it, and labels fall off.

Yet Maxine gave him 52 of all sizes for his birthday.

“No you can give me something every week of the year!” she crowed.

He consulted Standing Bear of the Utes.

Turned her into actual crow.

She’s missed, and he’d still like a word with her from time to time.

But no crows have answered yet, though one stole his watch from a picnic table. He had taken it off 

to check his pulse.

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Saturday, September 14, 2013

 

Asking a Machine


Two Friends and a Computer


“The mistake people make is not using the model
for personal matters. You can feed into it for
business stuff and it's infallible. I'd like to think
it's the same for...”

“Well, let me try it. I just really met Jeanne, and her
birthday’s at the end of the week. Should I get
her anything?”

The program asks for more information about
both of them. He, of course, can’t supply
much about her. ‘Funny’ and ‘Wry’ seem to
set up cautions.

“Get her nothing,” concludes the machine.

But he forgot to say what he had been
considering, and does so now.

“Been looking at  this ceramic thing, coffee mug
with a mermaid for handle?”

“Nothing.”

“But this program rules out anything that's
wifty and funny and light and spontaneous!”
he complains.

“For the very good reason that those things
can turn into pain!” friend reminds.

“Well, I'll take my chances.”

“1 in 7!” stresses the computer.

“Glad to know that. Better than most.”

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