no wonder

no wonder

i can't hear myself think...

my brain is on vibrate

he watches them

near the park bench
where the old man lives,
along with a host of doves
and a squirrel or two,
rush the lives of the mobile alone,
the fast-tracked desperates.

he watches them quietly from afar,
finishes his bottle of brown-paper port
and anticipates the arrival of the cops
who will send him on his way.
this is his human contact.

he doesn't judge them, but marvels;
what wretched lives they live!


4/26/1991

why ants never venture out during hailstorms

an ant,
i believe his name was Milton,
stood atop his castle of sand
shouting his defiance
(as much as an ant can shout
having no lungs, tongue or vocal chords,
but none the less
they can get upset too and
are not afraid to say so,
thank you very much)
at the gods of foul weather.

well one moment Milton was all full of himself,
the next, his ant skull was crushed 
by a hailstone the size of a pea.
wasn't much left of his sand castle either.
but you can bet his protest had been duly noted.


4/26/1991