it’s another event
at the school of selfish parenting
teachers with microphones
can’t control
the stream of camera-ready vultures
clogging up the aisles
standing in front of the spotlight
chatting away in ignorance
as our tiny children
march across the stage
in caps and gowns
sing their off-key serenading songs
that we will neither see nor hear
thanks to our entitled generation.
poetry
Just Saying
this is just to say
i have left
my bicycle on its rack
with the garage door open
you will walk out the door
drive to the store
and buy mint chocolate chip
that will sing in my mouth
take the bicycle down
electronically shut the garage
and remind me again
how i married perfectly at twenty.
Parade
trees drip with relentless spring,
weather that doesn’t belong here.
gray skies and chilled air,
we let them go on the last day
we stand under umbrellas, hoods,
huddled in sportsmanslike clutches,
our hands in Miss America waves
as endless yellow buses parade off.
we move into meetings, arguments:
what is best with what we don’t know yet
as rainwater greasily coats the glass,
blocking our view of the mountains.
the parade of buses will bring them back
on a sunny, hot summer day in August,
but we will not be huddled, hands in air,
waving our wanton hands in supplication.
we will wait in gray classrooms, chilled air
as trees glisten with relentless summer,
our view of the peaks shiny and new
their view of the world shiny and new.
Human Trees
trees are like humans
she says
they take forever to grow
they start small
when they’re grownups
they don’t grow anymore
they stay in one place
i want to tell her
they’re trapped by roots
taunted by wind
pelted with precipitation
they never stop growing
you’re right
i say instead
knowing that
how she sees the world
could change by morning
and i should cherish
how she sees it today.
Snow Day Saturday
Soon to be gone
Never so beautiful
Ogling along the route
Windless blue sky
Dancing inside my skin
Always a good day to ride
Yesterday forever on my mind.
Strength within, strength without
Arching back to match the slope
Turns that take us up and up
U-shaped curves that bring us down
Rising without falling
Diligence redefined
Awesome adventure
Yearning for another ride.
Blinded by Blue
i can’t see
the environmental impact
of the roads
ski areas
and mines along the way.
only the blue sky
long absent
longingly awaited
the sun hot on my skin
waterfalls pouring
from every crevice
of Rocky Mountain rock
and snow still standing
obstinately against all predictions.
i will take this pain in my muscles
to bed with me
as i listen to the roaring river
and try to remember
this perfect planet
we’re destroying
but for now
for today
i am blinded by blue.
Boneyard
the bones surround you,
starved from the dried-up sea.
you make your way through the maze,
darkness bearing down on the desert,
cold as a wintry mountain night
somewhere between the tail
and the cavernous rib cage
your pride follows behind,
a shadow of who you know you can be
lost in the wilderness of the boneyard.
you pick through pieces of skull,
sifting for the brainwaves that once
put thought into these bits of bone,
the iciness of your surroundings
building a tenacity you didn’t know remained.
your muscles tighten, the heartiest moving
you into a rhythmic undefined melancholy
through the motions of unreachable stars,
and you give in, release yourself to the night
just as Aurora touches your cheeks with her fingertips.
you resist, the dawn’s first touch as cold
as the depths of the boneyard in its darkest hour,
but the gentle kiss of radiant light awakens you,
casts away the shadow you’ve let fall behind,
and guides you to the mouth, the opening, to freedom.
Fitting in a Poem
i can fit in a poem
faster than i close the novel
check my email
and suck up to Facebook
it won’t be a Frost beauty
with a perfect
tennis-netted rhyme
but it still squeezes into my day
exhaustion seeps in
as the words pop from fingertips
and i wonder why i force myself
to type when my mind is elsewhere
i think of that chiseled creature
valedictorian boy whose life was perfect
who could do no wrong
and decided life wasn’t what he wanted
i think of that selfish email
snaking its way between the lines
of yesterday’s poem
and darkening our hearts
speaking of snakes
like one curved and black
my road home rides up the hill
and asks me to pedal faster.
i can fit in a poem
between children’s bedtime
ice cream enthusiasm
and my favorite show.
but will my words still work tomorrow?
Cloud
i want to be outside of the cloud,
to see the silvery circle of sun
touching the beauteous palm of Earth,
to float above everything below me,
to let the raindrops fall from my wisps
of Heaven-sent dewy collections,
to release within my realm of realization
every bit of darkness that keeps me
here inside this churlishly cold cloud.
Without Your Words
without your words
your hippie style of teaching
your gathering in groups
your relentless rule-breaking
your freedom-comes-first
your choice-is-the-best-choice
i wouldn’t be a teacher
and yet
i am trapped under piles of
standardized tests
computerized reading programs
administrative book doctrines
absentee students, parents
and find your words difficult to read
i wish i could capture them from memory
snap up the beauty of the classroom
that my children will never know
in thirteen years of institutionalized “care,”
that i could take your vision of education,
walk it right down to Washington
and make the world the place you promised
me it was capable of being.
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