Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.


November 30, 2010

(Somewhere along our recent 2800 mile road trip, I stopped writing poems about each state we passed through.  This might have had something to do with my habit of penning lines in a Moleskine balanced on my right knee, and my wife’s wise entreaties to not do that at 70 miles per hour.  But there are a couple of poems left.)


hurtling north
at long last
embracing the snarl
of Chicago
traffic and clutter
delivering a brusque
but not unfriendly
like a squinting grin
paired with a punch
in the arm

the pages of my history
flutter in the wind
U2 times 2
a 3 hour run in October
playing wheel man to Jürgen
my first cup of coffee
Smashing Pumkins in the day
the Dunkin’ Donuts
(where that girl and I
shared a late-night cinnamon roll
and I prayed, ‘let her be the one’)
jobsites, Quonset Pizza, Shirl’s

ever northward
until the Manning Manor
opens wide its arms
and its manicured grounds
to welcome us

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