Overheard At The Derby

Overheard At The Derby

I do like your hat.
really?

yes. it reminds me of a lampshade i once knew.
really?

yes. like you, the lamp wore it slightly askew. 
you mean crooked?

aye. awry. cocked just so over one eye.
really?

yes. it’s a fabulous look.
thank you. is your horse running today?

horse? i came but to see the hats.
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Hot Stuff

 Hot Stuff

Whenever my
ego fluffs up
and
gets in the way
of 
humility,

i remember me

how little i know

of 
auto mechanics,
pie crust,
algebra,

and especially
the unfathomable riddle called
 
women.

Then things even out
real fast.
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Estate Sale

Estate Sale
 
Like winged vultures 
drawn by the stench 
of smoldering carrion, 
 
we’ve come to satisfy 
our lust for
more, more, more.
 
unlike these black-winged 
marauders of the sky,
whose manners are

somewhat suspect, 
 
we follow a more civilized 
ritual of taking numbers,
and wait our turn to enter this 
 
sacred house of the dead. 
 
i follow the rush to the 
room with books
where pushy re-sellers perch,

shoulder to shoulder,
before the shelves
in their primitive craving

for the steaming vital organs— 
 
signed first-editions, 
dust covers mercifully intact—
 
a Hemingway—
Green Hills of Africa— 
 
(oh, most happy day). 
 
appetites sated, the lions lick their chops
and saunter off.
next the squabbling hyenas,
angry at the delay, move in,
while the vultures circle overhead,
desperate for an overlooked morsel.

finally it is my turn,
 and i finger the bony carcass 
hoping to discover the profession, 
the hobbies, and the education 
of the person who sat next the window 
 
to catch the light.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A Stranger

A Stranger
 
In America
I can 
walkabout 
 
in anonymity, 
                                                
a person of little consequence—
 
not celebrated athlete,
nor foul-mouthed rapper,
nor extra handsome movie star.
 
But, turn me loose 
in rural Japan
and I become
 
an instant object of interest—
a steaming meteorite fallen from the sky—
 
causing murmurs of surprise,
 
“gaijin, gaijin, gaijin”
 
mothers pointing, whispering to their children,
 
and turned heads—
 
a foreigner, not of us—
 
an unwashed soybean in a cup of rice—
 
a blemish never over-looked.
 
And there, for all to see, 
 
stranded, 
 
me, 
 
a tentative celebrity,
 
without a word of Japanese
 
in my pocket.  
Photo by David Dibert on Pexels.com

Wonderments and Such

Wonderments and Such

Children should discover
the tales of Robin Hood
and
Hansel and Gretel
and
Snow White

and many others of course,
but also,

they need to visit beaches
and get down on their knees to play

in the sand.

For it is there they will
begin to imagine

how many uncountable grains of sand
there must be clinging around the edges of
the world.

And thus, when they turn their
gaze to the night sky

they will also
wonder
how many stars
there must be illuminating all corners of the
Universe.

And so too,
these story tellings,
these imaginings,
these wonderments,

will help them look
inward
and examine themselves

with a much greater
sense of humility.
Photo by Natasha Babenko on Pexels.com