After Poem Three I Poured A Bourbon.

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I’m lucky, or maybe not, given the baseball acumen of the current Chicago Cubs, to be able to watch and listen to baseball via multiple platforms and devices. But my favorite is a small Sony transistor radio. Anyway, tonight, through innings two to six, I slap-dashed a bit of poesy. I don’t mind if you giggle, but I do hope you enjoy.

God of the Gaps

Misspent my
contempt for
the contemporary

Presently my
account is over

stock in the

a bet against
of reason

little interest
in cornering
that commodity

this run on superstition

with gossip made gospel

Rumor as redemption

Rent seeking revelation



Some shortstop
hitting his weight
swings late
at high heat
scorching a
foul ball
through box seats
to meet
the rosy cheek
of a lovely young
whose equally
young dandy,
re-pockets the ring



A minor romance
toe tapped at
a summer dance
sex for sure
and for keeping
score as neither
really wanted more,
or for that matter,


Window Treatment

He catcalled
the kitchen curtains
she purchased,
just this afternoon.
She tuned him out
which pissed him off
which clued the kids
to take it outside
where the daughter
told her brother,
“Love is, venetian blinds.”


Bad Blurb

A novel
on a device
is nice…
text on a
go figure-
I seldom
that digital

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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