Here are a couple of sample poems from my books. Enjoy.
Reading Whitman to my Daughter
Don’t fear the graybeard
with the floppy felt lid,
the one whose verse I read
while you sleep
under the stuffed lions
that hang from your mobile
and struggle amongst themselves
to become your afflatus.
Walt’s words will not harm you.
Despite the claim my uncle
and his new boyfriend made
that they’re sure to sway you
toward a life of homosexuality.
“Do you want her to grow up
to be gay?” they asked me.
Answer.
If your barbaric yawp resounds
and your smile stays sweet as lilacs,
then I could care less
if Tennessee Williams wrote
the script to your powerful play.
from Honey, I'm Home
Lily White Noon
My wife wrote “lily white noon”
on the cover of a magazine
beside a blue ink heart.
These words are a mystery.
Why did she choose them
from such a plentiful list of others?
Why not something exotic
like “sultry platinum eucalyptus”?
Maybe she was on the telephone,
pen in hand, while her sister
shared plans to elope with her boyfriend
at a small chapel in the town
where J.D. Salinger now lives.
Or maybe my wife,
staring out the kitchen window,
gave up after trying to describe
what she saw when the sun
hit the grass in a way
words failed to capture.
from Honey, I'm Home
Sweat
We stayed in bed
until late afternoon
with the fan
on our bare backs.
The neighbor outside,
taking a break
from mowing the lawn,
told his wife
that it’s not the heat,
but the humidity.
I lay on my stomach
thinking,
it doesn’t really matter.
The thought of getting up
crossed my mind
before I watched
one bead of sweat
trickle down
your shoulder blades
and disappear
into the curved basin
of your back.
I tried to catch it
with my fingertips.
from Not So Profound
Seasonal Affective Disorder
One day the snow appears.
Color is washed from everything.
The neighbor’s white cat
moves through the shoveled paths.
Unnoticed.
You lock the front door.
Listen to the wind
rattle the windows.
And shudder.
The refrigerator is empty.
You’ve forgotten
what an appetite
feels like anyway.
You think of a girl
who laughed
telling you a secret.
Her warm breath
against your ear.
You remember she smiled.
But can’t recall
color in her lips.
from Not So Profound
