Retreat

silence so thick
I can hardly see
my ego

Gull-ible

perched on the seaway
Jonathan
is that you?

Poseidon's Tentacle

arching over the seawall
   shattering
spewing salty flesh on my check

On the Beach

On a rocky New England beach
the waves recede
to the sound of applause

Smokin'

a joint at dawn
here comes the sun
doobie doobie

For R.D.

straight talk
   ironically twisted
you left us your soul

Placing an Order

eggcream in the South
   the question: sunnyside up
or over easy?

Writer's Dilemma:

is there anything
   to say?
am I the one to
   say it?

Last Sounds

hospice
   singers
Freebird!

The Error

Gun
   unattended
life
   ended

The Buzz

swatting the air
    in vain
let it bee

Julie

Vermont fields
     echoed
in her eyes

For Lefty

missing:
    one white paw
and their hearts

The Old Newsman

My phone vibrates in my pocket
another tweet coming in

I keep it near my testicles
it doubles the pleasure

at my age, everything helps.

I don't tweet out, at least not much
I mostly tweet in - CNN, Seacoastonline -
AP, The Dalai Lama, Holy Rascals

It's an old newsman's habit;
I keep in touch so you don't have to.

"Spring into Summer"
   the worn sign on the old motel says,
but I'd rather Fall

faux-piphany:
     when you finally realize
what everyone else already knows

fingers in pocket
     counting off the syllables
beach-walking haiku

dad died
communication
unchanged

Printed in From the Gean - July, 2013