I dreamt I was slowing
And the reaper,
You know, the grim one,
Was gaining,
And I would be harvested
Before I held the new edition
Of our book,
Caressed the artful cover,
Saddened by my fate.

But then I woke
And understood!
The volumes hadn’t come
Because every single one
Had already been sold
To bookstores
At every compass point—
I, gladdened by success.

Like that drunk Li Po,
I wondered which vision
Was the insight,
Which the dream?
(8/22/14)

What animated
Thoughts roil the brains of two men
Viewing that last slice?
What philosophical view
Empowers the man who wins?
(8/16/14)

Two yeshiva boys
Eyed the last lush tasty slice.
One snatched it and bit.
The other snarled, “impolite!”
The first smiled—“and you’re moral.”
(8/16/14)

Famously, we who attend know quite well
Life is a tale told by an idiot.
Last week, one of Gino’s lithe student belles
Smiled, greeted me, then put me on the spot.

“Gino told me you were a professor—
What did you teach?” “English lit—preached with vim—“
Then I introduced a stylish dresser—
“And this, my actor friend, is red-haired Jim.”

Her sharp intellect surveyed the factors—
And she replied: “all of us are actors.”
(8/10/14)

Thirty innocents are murdered
At a Baghdad apartment.
Palestine keeps lobbing
Useless missiles into Israel,
Inviting air strikes
Leaving hundreds dead.
In central Africa
Christians and Muslims
Systematically slaughter
Each other.
Seventy folks were shot
In Chicago
Over the holiday weekend.
Everywhere, inspired zealots,
Responding to orders
From their one true god,
Kill the infidels.

Meanwhile
Regal oaks, stately elms,
Weeping willows
Overarch
Lotus, rose, yarrow, dahlia—
Incandescent, stunning—
Wordless poems.

Breaking news: car bomb
Kills 89 in Afghanistan.
Malaysian plane shot down
Over Ukraine for no discernible reason.
295 dead.
More wordless poems.
(7/15/14)

Those martyrs seeking orgasm
In Jannah they hardly can fathom,
Focus their wits,
Explode into bits—
Which part gets to feel the grand spasm?
(6/28/14)

A tyrant named Saddam Hussein,
Immoral and finally slain—
Was better by far
Than Iraq’s evil stars
And should have continued to reign.

Von Clausewitz made it quite plain—
War’s function must not be arcane.
Attacks fueled by vanity
Are simple insanity,
The horror of leaders’ lame brains.
(6/15/14)

Invades our lungs and livers, pales our health.
That damned filth-begotten heat will soon choke
All frail life, reach the tipping point by stealth,
Kill us all in a manner quite baroque.

And here’s the unbelievable strange part—
It’s not auto exhaust, the threat of coal,
Smokestack emissions that will smother souls—
It’s ceaseless cow methane belches and farts.

We’ve got to rid the earth of gassy beasts—
Become vegan before we’re all deceased!
(6/14/14}

Of global politics and one true god
Religion, of interminable gun
Massacres, the horror of Africa—
I proposed a business that might be fun.

“Let’s raise some capital, use connections
To create a new TV sensation
We’ll name it The Good News Channel, and shun
The daily horrors that afflict, that stun

Simple humanity.” Laughing a fit,
“Marv,” they said, “there ain’t no money in it!”
(6/5/14)

To be, always, dark, mere murky shadows
Of the bright prismatic thought, rainbow wit
That streaks about, trapped behind the window,
Locked. The translation? Bungled counterfeit.
(5/31/14)