Saturday, February 28, 2015

Dinner At Denny's

source  here



You'll say that we are indecisive
Cognitively divided
and our dates are really lame.

You'll say that we're stuck in a rut
Like a hazard in putt-putt
Cuz all we do is just the same.


And I said what about Dinner at Denny's
She said I think we did that last Wednesday
And as I recall I think we both disliked it
And I said well than what do you think?

I see you refusing to clue me
Into what you want to be doing
But are choosing not to share.

So what now, it's plain to see I'm lost,
A coin's about to be tossed,
Cuz I don't even care.

Then I said what about that dinner at Denny's
She said I think I'd prefer JC Penny's
And as I recall I think we have 2 coupons
And I said well then let's do that.

You'll say we need to pick a wedding date,
A house, some colors, and baby names,
And that I need to settle on a career.

You'll say the futures coming on fast
Even more so than in the past
And we need a plan for coming years.

And I said what about dinner at Denny's
You smiled and said you thought 1 course would be plenty
And I said as I recall I thought you disliked it
And you said actually maybe you lied.

So we said we'll take two burgers at Denny's 
The waitress eyed us cuz we're in our twenties
And everyone else was a geriatric patient
And I said well that's one thing we've got.














Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Snowball Dance

The old gym is gussied up in too much gossamer
With countless Christmas lights entwined around
Temporary styrofoam pillars
In a futile attempt to mask
Its workaday function
And permanent BO,
A fitting parallel
To the freshmen and sophomores
Bedecked in their
Personal best,
Trickling in from 
Last-legged mini vans 
And a few flaunted sports cars,
None of which holds any direct correlation
To the quality of awkward gesticulation
About to ensue.

Kim and I are bouncers at the far doors,
Corks meant to keep the effervescent
Giddy hope 
And a few other things
Contained where they belong
(Until the fire alarm sounds
And all the unpredictable flames
Leap out of control).

The DARE officer 
Plays lineman and fireman,
Running interference periodically
Through the heart of the
Frosh pits, dodging elbows and 
Other overly exposed body parts
To stamp out the first sparks of 
Reckless teenage matches
And their attempts at fire by friction.

As the dj pumps out
Paroxysmic juxtapositions of
Pop, rap, and country, 
The expanding hoard slowly begins throbbing 
Like a leg beset by growing pains or a 
Zit begging to be popped.

The full-body sequins
And other gaudy baubles 
Of the Lady Gagette elite
Flounce and sparkle
In contrast with the
Borrowed black pants and
Worn-out khakis
Of their male counterparts
Who have either
Summoned up the courage or
Been cowed into
"Taking them out."

A quiet, usually camo-strewn hunter
In my English class
With a reading style slow and steady enough
To avoid being noticed by anyone
Is moving with a natural smoothness and rhythm 
I never would've imagined
In his black dress cowboy boots.
He's short and unabashed,
And his shorter, red-headed,
Firecracker of a sociable girlfriend
Is curiously being the wallflower,
Though he keeps tracking her down,
Refusing to join in this primal ritual
That he has single-handedly 
Transformed into something that
Transcends his classmates and classes
Into something
Classy.

I'm taken aback.

But it is Monday now
And the dancing hunter-king
Is quiet
Once again camaflauging himself
Against being called or picked on.

And the gossamered, sparkly-slipper gym
Is back to pumpkin, basketball-court orange,
Its girls and boys preparing for the whistle
To begin the game of dodgeball:
That bizarre dance that perpetuates
Their ever endeavor
To take someone
anyone
out.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Emergency Room Wait-Time Billboards

As we drive home,
I see the billboard
advertising the wait time
for the hospital ER:

75 min.

I guffaw
(wouldn't you?)
and wonder
what the purpose is
of such signs.

As people are driving down the highway,
do they think,
"Oh - it's only 5 minutes to get in?
I guess I'll go get this leg wound taken care of."

Or, as they scramble with a 
hemorraging family member in the car
do they get to the sign and say,
"I'm not waiting 30 minutes for this.
Let's go home and see what happens."

Perhaps this sign would be
better served
and would better serve
outside of a decent restaurant
that doesn't accept reservations
for parties smaller than 7,
or at fast food restaurants,
showing the difference
between the drive-through
and in-store line times.

Now that's
something I need.

But perhaps it would be
too gimmicky
for decent restaurants
or even McDonalds.

But, maybe not.
Maybe it would just be too
useful.



source here

Valentines Day: 2 Options

"You have two options for Valentine's Day," I tell me wife.

"You mean instead of or in addition to the usual poem?" she replies.

"Ummm... addition to."

"Okay - what are they?"

I produce two fliers - one from last Sunday and the other from a friend.

"Option 1: church dance with a bunch of people who have kids almost as old as we are.

"Option 2: poetry reading and jazz music at a bar downtown."

"Those are quite the options," she lols.

"Do you have a better idea," I parry.

"Well, we could get a little Caesar's pizza, put the kids to bed early, and play Mario Brothers."

"Oh.

"I love you," I say, like Han Solo did in Return of the Jedi
when stuck between a storm trooper and the blast doors: 
part appreciation and 
part attraction.

"I know," she says, like Leia
presenting the solution to the problem: 
part assurance and 
part showmanship.

And if those 4 moving parts aren't what animate love,
Then I'm a scruffy looking
Goomba herder.




Saturday, February 7, 2015

Neighborly

My neighbor is wearing shorts while shoveling snow,
And I ask myself,
"Why?
Why is he shoveling snow in his shorts?
Is he from Alaska?
Does he have a high tolerance for cold?
Is hypothermia setting in?
Is he a mutant?"

These are the questions that go through
A neighbor's mind.

Then I am reminded of
The second great commandment -
To love thy neighbor as thyself,
And I wonder what interrogations 
I should perform on myself.
What ridiculously absurd beams
Do I have in my life 
Compared to this mote of winter clothing choices in his?

None come to mind.

I finish shoveling my driveway,
Or rather, that of a single mother's around the corner
Since a more financially stable neighbor
With a mammoth snow blower
Has already taken care of mine and the elderly neighbor's next door 
(I guess he did mine since I'm the neighbor with little kids), and
I walk past this short-clad neighbor,
Comment on the weather,
And offer a hand, 
Which he appreciates
But declines.

He bids me,
"Have a good night,"
Though it's 11am,
And I'm now convinced 
hypothermia is setting in.

"You too,"
I reply,
Walking away.

And I realize he's probably asking himself,
"Why is that guy wearing snow pants?
And a high school drama club sweatshirt 
Underneath an unzipped 2nd sweatshirt?
Is he a thespian wuss?
And why is a grown man wearing a -
What is that - a Yoda hat?"

Yes it is, neighbor.

Let's call it even.