Fantastic Structures

I am not structure     nor am I form

But if I was I would be      A Fantastic Structure

One could walk me sideways      and climb my stairs upside down

My windows would be glazed with      Crystals from deep Bavarian caves

My womb would hide secret doorways     and be open on holidays

My pantry is not shuttered but open      for all to see the bounty I hold 

Steeples and Minarets twist and bend with the wind and clash with cumulus

Fragrant muted paint of Neroli decorates my 

consecration of concentric love mirrors 

who spiral round Thelonious towers and 

many stairs of Mourning Dove feathers

No gendarme guard me as my shingle is hung with an

 "Always open for business" sign

 that speaks pidgin english to all passersby advising them inmost

that what they see is  verite

I am not structure     nor am I form

But if I was I would be      A Fantastic Structure

dust

Dust falls

it falls everywhere

like snow in the forest

do you hear it?

silently it accumulates

patiently appearing

as if by magic

out of nowhere

then it begins its search

under chairs, behind bookcases

without foot steps

it creeps up and ensnares

hair: dog, cat hair, human hair

spider webs

skeletons of fantastic structures

I witness this

having also fallen

not able to move

with eyes slowly glazing over

slowly being covered

by the falling dust

nobody wins

What is this thing 

falling from the sky

a leaf to be turned

something new to lead me on

who gave this kindness          in a glance

and took it away

                            with silence

Christmas

good will and peace to everyone

Dark

winter solstice

                      shortest day of the year

turn off all the lights

supper is buttermilk pancakes

bathed in vanilla scented candlelight 

go to sleep early and dream divine

Light

Christmas

Solstice

the depths of Dark Winter

any light is revered

the Sun is precious

life is precious

a rose, a candle

and a smile

Winter Post

More Ducks than could be counted arrived via post

Dust colored and intent on destination

Meted out across the front of the card

They fly now in perpetuity across the mantle

Inside diminutive words of Christmas cheer

Outside the solitary pink rose resides

In the warm coastal winter of the wetlands

Through my window it communicates to me

And only to me as we are now allies —

Sisters waiting for Spring to arrive

just kidding

They found the device in a cave on Triton one of the moons of Neptune. I call it a device but it’s really a computer, the most sophisticated computer ever devised, but devised by whom … ?

Engineers developed an interface, a keyboard and screen that allowed questions to be posed to it. Answers to the most difficult scientific problems were returned in the instant that the last key was struck. It wore out all the scientists who came with worried faces and left with the appearance of bliss. They finally stopped coming. No one could think of anything else to ask.

I watched all this. I was just the janitor, by the way. After a while I became bored and I set down the book I was reading. It had given me an idea. I approached and typed in “What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?” and hit enter. I heard a something that sounded like a belch. The device whizzed and gurgled, and kept on making sounds like it was chewing on my question. Minutes went by, hours, days. I fell asleep, woke, fell asleep, on and on it worked. My beard grew and grew. When my hair started to fall out I got worried. I dozed again but was woken by the chiming of a bell. I looked at the screen. Gone was the screen saver of Barbarella in various alluring poses. The words on the screen printed out “The answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42.” The screen went blank and Barbarella reappeared. She turned and looked at me and said, “Just kidding!” then the screen went blank again. The device turned itself off and could not be restarted.

The Peloponnesian War

 

With a Bang?

With a Whimper?

How does one face The Future?

Plans made and laid and paid,

The best of plans gone astray.

Hair piles up in the corner

Of the shower and you shiver

To think it is your own. Flit —

These thoughts down the drain.

Brave face skeets into the world

With fresh laundered raiment and tinkly

Bracelets. Little Louis Heels click

Across the Saltillo Tiles with purpose

And gentle might. Down the hall The

Peloponnesians are at it again, but no matter,

Whoever wins this war, they will need dauntless

Soldiers to carry the dead and mend the wounded.

the future

He rang the bell three times

     then four

and three again

it was the sign.

everyone waited

pausing into the stillness

of the blue morning

no birds sang and

insects were still

only the close sounds,

breathing, hearts beating

then at the crest of the brown hill

came the creak of wagons

the dull thuds of oxen plodding

measuring the road towards the town

“they’re coming,” one boy spoke

admonishing eyes turned towards him

and he shut his now trembling mouth

eyes turned back to the road

waiting for their future to arrive.

Thricely Blest

Once Blest are ye

who have limits

Once Blest are ye

who have none

Twice Blest are ye

Who know their limits

Twice Blest are ye

Who do not

And Thricely Blest are ye

who overcome both

Gymnausium

The metal double doors slam open into the cavernous room

thirty boys, thirteen year-olds charge out on to the floor

the goose flesh on their spindly legs

shorts and t-shirts stiff with dried sweat

worn again and again, seldom washed, the smell,

the squeak of running shoes

jocks and non-jocks

the ones running and those standing

arms around our middles to ward off the cold

a whistle and everyone starts to run up and down the floor

a sudden stop, turn around and run back

some boys seem to be able to keep this on forever

the rest of us are gasping after two rounds

the fit and the non-fit

some mouths smiling, others cannot be opened wide enough

there is not enough oxygen in this room to ease our torment

we hate this

another whistle and we’re divided into teams

balls magically appear

more running

balls bouncing passed then shot upwards

the hoops, the nets

most shots are missed then more running

the opposite direction

shouts of “here, here”

by now we’re bending over gasping

while others keep running and shouting

“how do they do that?”

now for the worst part

a whistle “off to the showers”

clothes come off, nakedness

the snickers, those with hair

and those without

Gymnasium

Standing at the metal double door

You can see them lined up

The Oral Polio Vaccine (OPV) was developed in 1958 by Dr. Albert Sabin. Sabin attenuated the wild type poliovirus by passaging the virus in monkey kidney epithelial cells. Trivalent OPV is characterized in vivo by efficient growth properties in the intestinal tract, unaltered immunogenic properties with respect to wild type progenitors, and attenuated neurovirulence after experimental intraspinal injection into primates. This means that an individual immunized with trivalent OPV induces long-lasting (frequently life-long) protective immunity of the gastrointestinal tract to all known forms of poliovirus.

Little hands outstretched

For consecrated sugar cubes

A year later Dr. Alber Sabin worked on a live-virus polio vaccine. In 1961 the American Medical Association endorsed the use of Sabin's oral vaccine. Upon the adoption of the Sabin vaccine, everyone in America was called back for immunization.

Changelings now, free from

Disease that paralyzed limbs

 The Sabin oral polio vaccine was made with a live but weakened virus, which gives the advantage of passive immunity for large groups (i.e. because it is easily passed on through the oral fecal route in households, schoolrooms, etc., even if only a portion of the community is immunized, everyone eventually develops immunity).

They walk out of the Gymnasium

Into the world: Soldiers of Immunity

Unca Bulgie (Uncle Otto)

He stood before the easel

brush pausing

shifting his weight

one leg to the other

swaying on his crutches

shaking his head

something was not right

he struggled over to the model

adjusted her arm across her leg

then back to the easel

picked up his brush and started again

since he was a child

crutches and heavy braces

he said “I’ve measured every staircase

in every house that I lived”

Jonas Salk had come too late

Betty Grable Legs

Sacha Tillier limps out of the trailer. Her neck is stuck in gear and she cant seem to remember which one, high or low. Her back aches and she knows her child sized bed will only hold up so long. In the dark of last night the sounds had scared her but when the apparitions appeared she closed her eyes and said, yes I am home. God wants me here.
She tidied up her camp stove and made some coffee, cowboy style. Drinking her first cup o joe with her leg propped up on the ancient sawed off tree was her usual morning starting point and the sameness while routine, gave her hope. Hope she will find some way to escape this place. Hope she was young enough to find another lover. She had been looking for escape for the past ten years. Every hidey hole turned up empty. No key to be found.
Making the best of it was her motto. She turned her face to the sun and ran her hand quickly down her withered leg. Dammit, she thought, I used to be known far and wide for my Betty Grable legs and now not even my confused raggedy ghosts wanted to look at them. A deep sigh seeped out from her, but as she was determined to be ever hopeful, she dreamt of better days for herself. She need only find the key and she would be free.