Grasshopper in the City

Wake

wake slowly
no dream
soft sheets against
my skin
reluctant to meet 
clanging city
i lack purpose
but have plenty of work
i get undressed
and go back to bed

Leda and the Swan

The swan has a shlong.
Sweet ladies did swoon,
“Your shlong is so long.”

Leda said, “Nay,
I won’t give it a play.”
The swam smiled slyly,
“Let me show you my tongue”

Leda’s eyes twinkled
She liked the new wrinkle.
The tongue matched the shlong.
It rang her gong.

still life 2 years

I painted the original about 2 years ago and found it when looking for more paper for painting. I played with the painting further, making it looser, extending and elongating strokes. Ahhh!

dear professor,

You ask
Where to have our class
As Delta sneaks in.
Savage kin
Of covid one
Seeking lethal fun.

Under a tree
Is perfect, you see.
If not,
Please allot
A big room,
Rather than
Zoom!

Zoom,
Corporate baby,
Everyone in a tomb
Of camera angle.
Trapped in seat
Authority loves neat
Rows of faces
Compliant 
No one dares 
To be defiant.


8/14/21

the god falls

The background was done some undetermined years ago at the beach. I found it when I opened the pad to do this sketch. I inked the man/god yesterday, added a bit more watercolor et voila!

Koshis for the LARGE

This cartoon reprinted for S.R., my (equally) small friend. Okay, S.R., I admit you are a bit bigger than me but not by much!

Whilst You Sleep

Whilst you sleep
REM deep
I clean up
with open end of a cup
the dead baby rat.

Our cat
is bemused.
Why not eat it
if we choose?

She crouches.
She sniffs.
Did you forget
to refrigerate this?

I wince,
my nose i pinch.
I ready the cup,
oh, look up.

Spiders have laid their web
over the corpse.
They'll have to find another bed.

Never let it be said
you do all the housework
for I have been hunting
under the crawl space rafters.
I guess this is your wedding perk.

This Poem For You

Sally walks her dog
black Lab tongue
already hanging in July's rising heat.
Strung across Brian's stair railing
a broken spider web
glimmers wit rainbow roads
once trod,
now abandoned.

We sit on stoops,
chat
of furnaces and photos.
Birds sing seeking mates.
A train calls out warning
as it passes through the City.

My cat
sits by the door,
eyes lazily squinting,
flicking her tail,
teasing leashed dogs, 
tracking pigeons' flight.
She jumps to
the top of the armchair,
stretches out.
It's nap time again.

I smile goodbye,
go back inside
for breakfast and tea
and
to write
this poem
for you.



7/14/21  8 a.m.