Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Sheffer Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft

How far we've come when we can char
our ribs on Wolf stoves' stainless with ado
outdoors with cedar wood from Taos.
But here it is again, our rain, my love,
the rhodies saved and we will nip
no kiwi vine today. Forward up an urge
we'll climb a dryer day. Silicon in tubes
we rubes aplay while out the window ivy
climbs clefted bark the cedar sighs
I dream through catalogs as if to buy
a Morris chair, pillowed bed, Sundance
dainty on a thong, oh me I play my part,
hooked wool rugs and Grecian urns
sugar plums to dance and fill the pie charts
it's damp I'm dumb I've put away the aloe
don rubber gloves, downstairs I scrub off
mold, afix new tiles, at ten I'll break for tea.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Sheffer Crossword 7/28, a Poem Draft

Scratch a mosquito bite, endure perpetual scab
like lion bears unhappy and pacing at the zoo
or mildew toughened and renewed through suds
for all you believe cannot come through by logo
what you swallow will return as Rorschach ink
vast and intertwined as aftermaths in Asia
and you redfaced your fisted pork chop
UHaul trailer stalled in Murfreesboro, gas cap
popped and gone however scoured the area
as we sit down and bow before our porridge
kingdom for a crescent wrench a dime a diva
pitch hum annunciation your wristwatch Zulus
believe in progress accomplish three times nil
flex will and flesh your solar plexus achy
pack portmanteau deplane in Lisbon, Portugal
itch for vinho verde lamprey sausage trout
follow what you yearn for earn your paunch
cry baby cry still leap dolphins after porpoise
so you slip you lift again and try another role
ancient churches crumbled to the apse
your lapses unrepented unexumed you fumed
so what, so why not curry what you need?

Monday, July 21, 2008

Bulletin from Holiday Inn Express on Bishop Way:

Who know Pullman was home to the National Lentil Festival?

Monday, July 14, 2008

To lay tile against your wall, smear adhesive
as though you never learned to color between
lines - who cares it cakes your arms and
countertops. You're a worker not fricking fop.
Keep motions loose and gymnastic, you're
not a spastic though you feel that, lunged
at the odd angle necessary to lay corners and
straighten gaps. Get the hang of this cuz soon
it's time to buy the float and learn to grout.

Friday, July 11, 2008


Today's SeattleScape blog provides the details. Minimum bid $89,000. As if you don't already have enough problems with prostitution and drug use over to the Honey Buckets. I think you can use the stainless appliance cleaner on the exterior. (Restoration Hardware has it.)
Meanwhile, at Totem Lake, flickers flagrantly rat a tat
while here I hear a Boeing jet, my Boeing blood, my
father there forty years, blonde mantel clock memento,
Mrs. Boeing's house on the way to Tolt Hill, snapping on
the tonneau cover to his red Triumph TR 3 outside Plant
Two, last one to leave Seattle please turn out the lights,
Christmas Party at the Coliseum, materiel. Rare, he
told them in Texas, threaten that steak with a match.
Two foot baby alligator gift cover story, Boeing News.
My father's proud grin, half my age, so very long ago.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Her life fit into one suitcase cinched with a strap
every word, though from her parka pocket one verb
looked about to fall. Let's call her Paula. Her limp
was legendary, and the boys knew she had no idea
about her power, the devastating down of her ear,
hair about to tumble, jumbled amber locks and pins,
her sweet breath warm and gentle as camomile tea.
Now we're post millenial we can view much on screens
but she has gone, tra la, one more digested morsel.
You needn't live in Citges to wake up and taste paella.
Ah Mahalia, girl with gumption, gospel queen, like
you she travelled and believed as yes we do in magic.

Friday, July 04, 2008

If only we had taken the "can do" drive of NASA
and applied it to our planet. What if we had felt
desire for cello suites or educating parakeets?
What if we had yearned to return pepper scent
to carnations and would not let the no nose rose
be sold? If we weren't so adaptable, inured to all
they say we ought but do not love, who could we
have become? Give glory to the green thumb,
praise cooking scents from private residences,
bring bards to roads and farmers to the dells.
Dare to prattle about Yeats and memorize him.
Dawdle, pause, perambulate. Never multi-task.
Easier not to do than unknot what's been done.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

July 3 Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft

White caps churn down lake. They don't tire
like I do fiddling with nothing at my desk
How would it feel to flash so momentarily
in the fading sun - remember Star Trek,
the episode where the crew pities the girl
whose species lives only ten years, like my
dog, who lived for twelve, my brother with
a life expectancy of eighteen who hurray
lived to twenty one. I cannot follow a single
white cap, each lifts and disappears. As
we do, my love, as we do.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

7/1/08 New York Times Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft
(It's Tuesday, I can do the Tuesday puzzle)

The harrow is fancier than the plow,
using spikes or spring teeth to turn
soil. Simple implements don't cease
their toil as we tilt crystal goblets to
paint rainbows across the decking.
Blisters are the province of the doer.
As greens twine forks, are we callous
or indifferent? Do we enjoy the dado
trim, arty swag lights, lavender hand
cream in the restroom? Unease
undoes satisfaction in our bellies.