March for Our Lives

Putin's bitch

fires his Secretary of State & National Security Adviser
after their anti-Russia statements.

& their replacements will be dangerous dolts.

how much longer before the nation crumbles.

Putin's bitch

calld the dictator to congratulate him on his fake election.

this idiot cheapens his office & weakens the nation more & more each day.

how much longer do we have to endure?

reflections on being read

the earliest poem of mine of which I have a copy was written 63 years ago. the first poem to appear in a magazine was in 1962. my first slender chapbook was publishd in 1969.

in other words I've been doing this for a long time. like so many poets I don't get paid for reading or publications. my books don't get reviews or awards. but poets make poems & that is our reward.

this morning I woke to rare notice of my work. several Facebook friends saluted my poetry. the wrinkles around my mouth shot up. small kindnesses like this are large. it means the work isn't just out there but someone's reading it. the making of poetry -- like other arts -- is a solitary endeavor. we who create offer our work to the world. & for the most part the world remains silent.

so to anyone who takes the time to read me let me offer my gratitude. & to those who have brightened my morning my love.

"Son of Hollywood"

my new book

of late I go in darkness to the spa to unwind. being alone outside in heatd water is a slice of heaven. but then along came the time change. so tonite it was less than black when I sunk into the jacuzzi. I lookd up to discover an El Greco sky. but I'm no tortured saint. I feastd on the dappled sky. no roil there. but such enjoyment that I was calm. & that was my desire for that activity. this good day ends well.