Archive for the '1' Category

Keller

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

If your god never disagrees with you
it might be an idealized version of yourself
or one of any number of other things
that never disagree with you—
a bench, a certain twist of foam in the surf
off the Cape of Good Hope. A cape
hanging in a costume shop.
A shopkeeper hanging around
a costume convention. Consider –
a universe in which nothing not only
disagrees with you but is even aware of you.
Humbling. Or should I say Kellerian,
all creatures of our God and King?

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Delivery Attempted

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Secretly, and without telling anyone,
he had an effective game plan
for everything he did. This quiet
intentionality rubbed off on
his colleagues without them noticing.
What a time to work here, they thought,
not knowing why they thought it.
For, prior to that time, they’d grumbled,
groused, or merely moped, albeit
practically imperceptibly — like vapor
vanishing as the sun comes up.

Arrived today: A long awaited paperweight.
Arrivés aujourd’hui: Le voulu papier-pierre.

Marcus Greely, Corporate Recruiter: Epicore Software.
View Marcus Greely’s profile on LinkedIn.

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Beach Day

Saturday, August 25, 2018

“Open your hands,” says Dad, so I do,
and he puts about twenty seashells in them.
“Found those up by the jetty” he says;
“I’m sorry if they’re not very good.”
I throw them one by one toward the sea,
and pigeons gather, thinking they’re bread.
Pigeons are almost as dumb as my dad.
Haha, he’s actually not that bad.

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Savannah Poem

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Turns out my neighbor is selling her Porsche.
Ah. One thing at a time, says my wife.
Apparently, DirecTV is still billing us.
I keep trying to cancel service.

Meanwhile we’ve been hit with an afternoon
thunderstorm every day this week.
I pulled as much grass as I could
out of the garden. Garage is still musty.

There’s a dog park about a mile east of us.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this!
Beyond that is Home Depot and the sea.
We’re trying to figure out how to live here.

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Fighting Words

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Ah, yes! A little fisticuffs! A private boxing encounter right here in the lobby. We’ve got to brawling out here behind the building. Rolled up our sleeves and commenced to clamor. Begun a brouhaha, a fracas, a quarrel — ruckus. We’re kicking up dust out in the street, near where the tram runs through. Next to the horse track, the old stables. Here, where the busses hiss to a stop, their doors creaking open to let travelers step down to hot pavements. Here we fight with hands and feet, you and me — in a spasm sparring, a set-to of singular strife. A duel for the ages! Ah, yes! A scuffle between us has started.

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Paradise Row

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Met, at Mother Kelly’s in London,
a nouveau restauranteur
who perhaps was being provocative
when he grumbled several
pro-Trump statements
such as “I hope he DOES build a wall.”

“Are you pro-Brexit?”
we asked him. “Of course not,”
he shrieked. Later, my wife
recalled him as “That coke fiend,”
and I can’t blame her.
She really hates Donald Trump.

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The Writing Life

Saturday, July 14, 2018

It is all coffee shops and typewriters and
thin smoke rising from unstubbed butts

Cigarettes burning silently down to the knuckle
of drowsy, lost in thought writer,

It is ink spent, ink spattered
And ink wasted, ink’s ink; the ink of ink

Curled pages tucked absently into attachés
and hurried through rainy streets
to editors waiting in austere and lonely offices

Yes, it is all of that and also
lost love, hated love, rejected love,
Love in all its masquerade

It is lost family, hated family, loved mother.
Betrayed and redefined.
Writing life is the Loved Mother
of all lives. Yes, it’s the invented mother.

And it is a certain winsome threadbareness
of the blazer with the one seam pulled
of rumpled cotton shirt and denim pants
and out of fashion boots

The writing life is an utterly genuine badassness
that always feels sui generis

but is in fact the same everywhere
both the same, rather, and as
absolutely different

as it seems.

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Meeting at Work

Thursday, July 12, 2018

“This is the assembly line. They change
trains here and they need to avoid
the domino effect into other elements
of their journey. This is where the dominos
could tilt either way, and they just want
to protect their bucket of money. We want
to make sure we’re planting holistic seeds,
so when they get to 59½ they don’t think wow,
I’m at a crossroads and don’t know how
I got here. All they want is Social Security.
All they care about is their bucket.”

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Stop Looking at Me

Friday, July 6, 2018

The biggest key to success
is knowing what’s what.
The biggest key to what’s what,
however, is grasping who’s who.

Master that and you’re
in the master class reserved
traditionally for masters
and others of their ilk.

So success sort of sucks,
because you think you’ve nailed it
and there’s another sucker
or two buying what you’re selling,

and suddenly you’re no longer
on top of the human pyramid
but in its squirming middle
hanging onto a hanging handle

like the elderly subway rider
no one will cut a break.
The aged pedestrian beset
by Nobody Beats the Wiz bags

en route to the randomest
bat mitzvah money can buy.
The biggest key to getting out
from up under is knowing

whose whistle to wet
and at what precise moment.
That and really cut back on TV
Really, really cut back on TV.

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Piloting

Friday, June 22, 2018

The two best countries
are Canada and Japan.

The two best artists ever
are Picasso and Van Rijn,

or possibly Van Eyck.
The two best houses are

the Biltmore House in NC
and the White House in D.C.

The two best cars ever
are Blue Streak and the first Model T.

The two best people in history
are Jesus and Lincoln.

The two best roads are
the Autobahn and Route 66.

The two best inventions in history
are the pencil and the wristwatch.

The two best ideas ever
are the dictionary and the fireplace.

The two best sentences are
“Today you will be with me

in Paradise,” and “It was the best
of times, it was the worst of times.”

The two best moments in history
are when George Washington refused

to lie to his father, and when Kirk
Gibson homered off Dennis Eckersley.

The two best brands of ice cream
are Peveley and Briar’s.

The two best brands of shoes
are Ecco and Nike.

The two best trains are
the F to Brooklyn and China’s Iron Rooster.

The two best words are
“translucent” and “piloting.”

The two best birds
are canaries and mourning doves.

(May, 2001)

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