31/365: empty classroom

after hours the classroom feels like a cave -
I never bother turning on all the lights
and so in the dimness I take account
like an anthropologist
of the artifacts the students leave
to mark their territory:
name plates, jars of candy,
an exercise ball rolled under the desk instead of a chair.
Some books, papers - pictures of their kids,
pictures by their kids.

yesterday they graduated - today I pass through
and all these things are gone -
like a primitive band of hunters
they have pulled up stakes
and all that is left are empty chairs.

I want to call them back -
wait - there was something else I wanted to tell you
it's the good part -
the punch line -
one final analogy that will bring it all together for you.

but I am already history -
part of a finished story.
it dawns on me that I am kin
with the painting of the cave bear.
I was never the teller at all.

30/365: heading west

I'd like to head west -
on foot -

I'd like to walk amongst the sunsets
and canyons
and mysterious Indians -
all full of shamanic wisdom -
not one selling genuine artifacts made in China.

I'd like to leave the past behind,
so wet and mildewed,
and head out into the dryness
of the desert
with the possibility of a hundred
cloudless future days.

29/365: a breather

I had to take a breather
so many rain drops were falling
during that last storm -
keeping track of them all
is a job I realized was best left
to the angels
to whom it had been assigned -
I have to admit I have other things
to do.

27/365: beware the loose reality of pop-up toasters (published in Star*Line)

beware the loose reality of pop-up toasters

reality is carelessly knit together
in the pre-dawn twilight -
words and the things they mean
are pulled and stretched
like an old sweater -
the moonlight shines through the gaps.

reason rules the day,
but its grip on the pommel of knowing loosens
once the sun unhitches his chariot
and stables his horses
and sits down at his great marble table
to dine on wine and figs.

in the night there is no one god
from whom truth radiates -
there is a cacophony of order,
a cornucopia of law.

take your pick, if you can -
find that you can leap comets and
exchange research notes with dolphins.

however, I hope that pop-up toasters
and other household appliances
do not pursue you
in a house without doors - but if they do,
just keep running until you hear

the snort of horses

and the clop of hooves
against the sky.

**

Audio: https://anchor.fm/honest-chaos/episodes/Beware-The-Loose-Reality-Of-Pop-Up-Toasters-erm2k3