Some Poems I Wrote This Week

These are some poems I wrote this week. The first poem is called "Oak Island; Day of Paradise". The second is called "It Just Takes a While, That's All".

Oak Island; Day of Paradise

That guy in his late 
40's sitting on the beach
with a remote control 
car and a bottle of wine.
I can't remember which one 
it was, maybe, Cat's Cradle, 
but that guy reminded me 
much of the main character 
in that book. If it was Cat's
Cradle, like I said, then it 
would make sense, since 
the main character in Cat's 
Cradle is just a chill guy 
who goes to an island in search 
of love, or something like that, 
it's been a while since I read 
it. That guy in his late 40's 
sitting on the beach with a 
remote control car and a bottle 
of wine was listening to Bob 
Marley's ninth studio album, 
"Exodus", and as soon as the 
title track, "Exodus", began to 
play, he stood up, walked to 
the edge of the water, and 
began to cry. He no longer 
reminded me of the main 
character from Cat's Cradle 
or whatever that novel I was 
thinking of was. He instead 
reminded me of an old, used 
candle, slowly dripping the 
last of it's wax. A bottle of 
some vintage Cabernet, probably 
cheese or something, music,
and a remote control dune-buggy 
which was making slight work of 
the sand. That woman whose 
little girl continuously screams
"VIOLET! VIOLET! VIOLET!" 
into the sky despite that woman's
continuous pleas for her little
girl to stop the screaming. At once,
she fell to her knees, wet sand 
sticking to her 98% polyester and 
scraping through it's squeezing
of her thighs. That woman's
little girl surlily screaming "VIOLET!
VIOLET! VIOLET!" into that woman's
dreadfully sullen expression. She
stands up and turns back. Her
little girl stopped screaming. That
inexperienced angler twosome 
launching steel plumbobs in tutus 
as far as they can swim. Plumb dry and
no bites as far as the eye can see
doesn't stop the super nor begs
for them to give up. Sea bilge seeps
flanking their phalanxes, the wahine 
angler twinkles broadly. A fond but 
secretive moment in a day by the deep. 

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It Just Takes a While, That's All

The last word I Googled, which, I
should actually say Duck Duck Goed
because I don't use Google anymore,

was the word plenipotentiary. Sometimes
a stranger grabs me and pulls me
me outside and the more often

I give-in and let him, the happier my 
days tend to go. Mom killed all
the planets in her garden so that

the mosquito lady could spray
her mosquito poison everywhere
in the yard without tainting her 

planets; the planets that ain't there
anymore. Sundays and Mondays 
and Sundays and Mondays, the

schedule that tends our bar and
keeps me from drinking too
much on the weekends. Such like 

flaccid bacon and watery
scrambled eggs. I had a dream 
about that "This is your brain on 

drugs" commercial but the frying 
pan was instead a blank canvas.
The egg was still an egg. The egg's

slack whites slinked through the 
canvas and onto the floor and 
my bare feet. I still don't have a

clue what plenipotentiary means
but I think it has something to
do with that dream about the

egg. What do you do in your 
free time? In my free time? What
about it? Don't worry about me,

Kurt, I know what I'm doing. It
just takes a while, that's all.
That's just what I'll keep telling

myself. It just takes a while, that's
all. Woof! 

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