Christmas

When I was five

I became aware that

December days were played

like a game of moral dice

against an Advent calendar

where each day was marked

with little paper flaps

noting misbehavior

and since Santa was

always keeping lists

like a roly-poly bully

who lurked in winter's

shadowy chill and mist

and I knew that

he could watch me

through the TV set.

Silver Moon

In the shadows

of a silver moon

in a desert land

of caves and cliffs

and saw shaped peaks

sharpened by the

crust hard winds

of a vast salt flat,

bleached pale

like bones,

swept clean and

shrouded in

in a silver haze

above lost silver mines,

beneath a silver moon.

A Parliament of Owls

Jiggery piggery piggery poo.

Jiggery pokery piggery woo.

Applesauce, so sweat and tart

That went all jiggery too.

A parliament of owls flew in,

A meeting of feathery friends.

Hooting with their eyes wide shut,

They caucused till the night was out,

This parliament of owls.

Rhyme and reason are out of season

And those who think otherwise

Are guilty of treason.

Jiggery piggery piggery woo.

A band of coyotes rocked away.

A band of coyotes on parade.

They eat up ma then chewed on pa

And asked lil' Timmy to give 'em more.

Jiggery piggery piggery poo.

Jiggery wiggly piggery do.

A car of clowns have come to town

In a slap fest for the crown.

Jiggery piggery wiggly woo.

Around 3 AM

Around 3 AM in some

midnight of the soul

where distant sirens wail

like banshees at the door

and night burns into

colors like rust

beneath the flickering

vapors of sodium lights

that reduces the moon

to a tin shadow

made small against

the angles of mismatched

roofs until it fades into

the smog of yesterday's

last bad scene.

Sleeping In a West Virginia Field

Mourning doves stir and coo

In early light draped pale

By mist and the dew

Grew thick between our toes.

We had slept that night

In an open field picked blind

After a late night's drive

Through countless hallows

Lit by the fires of ten thousand tires

Burning wildly in a junkyard heap.

A breath of hell like a Bruegel print

As the flames flared tight

To the side of the road.

By noon the huddled hills were

Sweeps of green and hummingbirds

Swooped to a dulcimer lilt

Beneath a leafy canvas,

Beneath a translucent sky.

Jesus On My Toast

I saw Jesus on my toast today,

He just winked and waved.

Asked for butter, extra salty

Then sent me on my way.

Moses was at the crosswalk,

Parting the cars for sport.

Said he needed a new tablet,

With WiFi and every app.

Buddha was in the coffee shop

Dreaming of a creamy latte.

He nodded off quite gently

To dream of sprinkles with

A pinch of spice.