Tuesday, March 10, 2015

The greatest sadness... The greatest joy.

I've four of the greatest dogs I've ever owned at the moment.

Gwenn:
six years old,
finicky,
loose eyed,
Wide running,
impatient,
sensitive and tough.

Jett: 
Five years old,
Prick eared and always reliable.
hard fast,
maybe a bit sticky eyed,
knows her lines,
patient.
   She'd gather sheep through an artillery range,
No bother,
Sharps the word and quick's the action.


Murphy:
three years old,
head strong and brilliant.

O'deilla:
Three years old,
sensitive,
intuitive,
heads up...
and blind.
The vet described the cause of her blindness as a massive bacterial infection,
That caused her ocular nerves to swell,
and to her guessing,
made her blind within a few hours.

It's funny....
My dog,
named after the patron saint of ocular diseases....
Is now forever blind.
She is my greatest sorrow...
and still my greatest joy.

     

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Starbucks 25/2/15

I am looking for clarity amongst madness-
My birthday three days ago
and Mother's today.
We celibate our births
While lamenting the loss of the breasts
that gave me life.

What did I dream of 34 years ago as I nursed?
My hand absent mindedly grasping at my mother's hair
Her blouse
Her finger?

Did I dream at all
Or was I merely content?
     
      Recently-

I have fallen in love with Dorothy Day
And I hope that she is never canonized.
I want her to be my saint.
I do not want to share her.
I want her all to myself in a cabin on the coast-

There

Our child would sleep contentedly between
us as the water boils.
    We would make love on the bed

She and I-

Later I would pour her bath
Near to the wood stove.
  
   She would smile at me in the dim light from the wash basin

I holing our child,

She content,

and me her good man.   

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Sunday Night Obituarys

Five dollars for the collection plate
And five twenty five for a beer-
Eight for a pack of smokes
and whiskey to banish misfortune
  
Never mind the cost.