She Sings Above Machines

This overcast morning,
the air wet with humidity
and noise, I mistook
the song of a locust
for machines, as she
struggled to be heard
over the ongoing moan
of air conditioners.

I fear this marks
the onset of some
strange mental illness
where soon I will hear
automobiles where
there is birdsong, and
mistake the cacklng squirrels
for lawnmowers.

Near Midnight

It is nearly midnight
and there are several conversations happening
in my neighborhood.

Across the street to the northwest
a couple seems to argue, until one of them
says "Ronald Reagan," and then there is laughter.

Across the street to the northeast
I hear the crack opening of a beer can and a heavy voice
that grows angrier as others correct him.

I am going to bed.
No one else in this neighborhood
will be up before noon.

Homer Street

If you remove the asphalt
there is brick, and if you
remove those bricks,
there is dirt.  She was there
when the road was dirt
and they filled its holes
with cinders from the furnace.

She and my grandfather,
along with some neighbors
petitioned the city to pave
the road, and they agreed
saying, "Soon, all of the city
streets will be paved."
It seemed unbelievable, she said.

A Note to Jim as He Travels

Jim -

I visited Bobby today in your absence.
When I arrived she was seated
in your rocker in the half light
listening to a selection from Brahms.

As I entered, she stretched,
and then meowed in that hoarse,
but not altogether unwelcoming way.
You know what I mean.

She ate her wet food while
I got fresh water, and then
we sat on the kitchen tile awhile.
I scratched behind her ears,

and we listened to Chopin.
I do believe she is my friend now,
and I will visit again in a few days.
How is Warsaw?  Be well.

Matt

Long Live Libraries

James learned to read this year,
and today he got a library card.

I am not sure he fully understands
that he now has control of the world
of words.  His 7 year old mind has yet
to weigh the importance of this event.

He might use the card to learn
to build a house, or stage a revolution.
Perhaps he'll read about Lincoln or
Henry David Thoreau.

Today, with his card he borrowed
a DVD cartoon of Kipling's mongoose,
and a story about an Elephant and
a Pig.  They are quite hilarious.

When we got home, James proudly
showed his Mom his card, and the
first borrowed items, before asking
if he could go on the computer.

Hi Neighbor.

I had the windows down
and was singing along
to Jimmy Cliff this morning.

The sun was coming up behind me.

It was a beautiful 70 odd degrees,
nice breeze, no worries
going to work morning.

Summer was just around the corner.

I smiled and waved
to a tall old man on Park Ave.
He gave me the stink-eye.

Broken Bricks

I hope that I’m not here

when the last factory falls.

I know the evidence

of our civilization,

spray paint on brick,

dusty novels in public libraries,

sweetly sincere hellos and

I love you’s will all return

to dust again, but

I hope that I’m not there

when Ohio abandons itself, and

West Virginia blasts its last

mountain top, and the final PA

steel mill crumbles into rust.

I hope that I’m here with you

when the last factory falls

and we tell each other stories

of the things we once built,

as the sun suggests

some new growth

in broken bricks.