October 28, 2016 § 6 Comments
It always rains on Halloween.
It turns the midget witches mean.
Hulk howls and drips an acid green,
and everyone gets wet between
plastic costume and plastic hat.
Princess hair goes limp and flat.
Water logs the vampire bat.
All stand and drip on front door mat.
October 23, 2016 § 5 Comments
It’s like that old game, hot potato.
When luck comes your way you got to pass it on. Pass it on quick as you can.
Like touching a butterfly, some of the glimmer on luck’s wings is bound to rub off.
Not everyone knows it, but it’s true. You got to give it away.
Clutch luck with both hands and it goes limp, turns itself into lifeless objects: hollow houses, gems with a cold sparkle, cars that drive real fast to nowhere—things that look like happiness when you don’t have ’em, but leave the mouth dry, hunger unappeased.
October 9, 2016 § 8 Comments
As irresistible as gravity.
And with luck, kindness, and effort, something lasting follows.
But some never form an enduring partnership when they are young.
Others lose that best friend to death.
In both cases, there is a vacancy, a hollow place in the heart that aches to be filled.
But with age, the one about to swan dive usually pauses to consider the depth of the water.
Falling in love later in life is more clear-eyed, and more complicated.
Two fully-formed human beings face each other, each towing a lifetime of baggage and assets: children, grandchildren, memories, mistakes, dreams.