Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

fight the good fight -
a lotta poems
still need to get written

godspeed, sir

how did I get here? 66 next week or so 66 orbits around the sun spent scuba diving mountain climbing now I just walk the dog arthritis bifocals and retired... me, retired! jesus... a life of 8 to 5 jammin' in the lab lasers and tunes Gaussian profiles Mahavishnu Orchestra yeah man! physics kicks ass...

sleeping dog
his head in my lap
a clock ticks

rusted machinery
skeletal remains of
long-dead factory

empty house
memories echo
down its halls

my old black lab
brain tumor
pentathol
months in mourning
alter ego

where to hike today? consult the oracle topographical maps torn and dirty like thumb-smudged pages in a dog-eared bible book of isaiah or corinthians royalston quadrant otter river birch hill wildlife management area (BHWMA to us in the know) mclaughlin trail river meander ancient bridge abutments a...

house guest
homeless yellow lab
settles in

( At about the time my daughter was scouting out colleges, the essay subjects suggested by the admission boards were becoming increasingly quirky. One such caught my eye, and demanded a response of my own. ) WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD, AND WHY? My favorite word? Oh! There are so many; all so good, ...

the old lab rat
worn engineering texts
his holy writ

Thank you so much for your positive comments! Yes, the "I" in this story is me, or was in 1981, when I wrote much of it down before the memories had a chance to crystallize into something else. My father's chief weapon wasn't the belt, but a biting wit that left you wondering whether or not you'd re...

stained glass creaking pews robed attendants sit, stand, kneel, stand stand, sit, kneel, pray recite words written by others think thoughts thought by others I, heretic in pagan worship of budding leaves drinking the sunlight of phoebes insistently building mud nests on my porch of spring peepers of...

brave new world
without troubling shades of gray
just ones and zeroes
yes's and no's
a game of 20 questions
to the nth power
quantum reality
at the scale of iToys
toaster ovens
sex lube
useless bling
via teleportation!
whither the journey?

I second that

somehow reminds me of the stoic optimism found in the verse carved into those old slate New England headstones

enviably beautiful

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