Monthly Archives: October 2015

How much do our sadnesses weigh?

The Catholic bells go bung, bung.
What does love sound like?

Cars encase us-
some the hairy kind.

The sky turns from
black to pink
to blue to
pink to black.

The little one
gets taller
and thinner
and asks me
When do we Die?

When we are finished living,
I say,
taking a bite of salmon kabob
and wondering if anyone heard
his question
on this bright sunny Saturday
outside patio
shoppers with bags
hairs done
shiny sandals
expensive blouses.

We sit in the dark touring Saturn
for the sixth or seventh time
What does the Universe smell like?

our skin dampens,
our legs creak,
we need water.


The Dead Squirrel

Who will get rid of the dead squirrel on the sidewalk by the Taco Bell?
It’s been there for a week.
Soon it will start to smell.

Who will pick it up with gloves on and throw it in the trash?
Or come out with a broom and dustpan to sweep the poor little guy, his miniature fingers and toes frozen, into the next world?

Who will help the bipolar veteran in the wheelchair eat three meals a day?
Which dentist will take time out of his schedule to pull old, infected teeth at the free clinic next to the homeless shelter?
Who will wash the graffiti off the schools on the north side,
pick up the trash blowing around the playgrounds so our kids don’t step on needles in the grass,
donate wood and paint so that our neighbors aren’t living in shacks with tarps for roofs?

Next week or the week after,
that squirrel will be gone.
If I wait long enough,
turn my face the other way,

Someone will do it.


Santiago de Compostela
torn out of a magazine
tacked on the wall to the right of
my desk.

Birds singing in my ear
outside a newly opened window,
thank you October.

Someday I will walk
the pilgrims way
scallop shell on my backpack,
freedom in my heart.

But today it’s interviews
and 12 point font.

I can see the cathedral
to my right,

hear the birds to my left.

My future singing to me

comfy like a cradle
rocking me along.