Offerings and takings

Lurid offers

were whispered

in willing ears.

Suitable arrangements

were offered, strokes

and secrets, coin, skin.

The sun rose

as always, warm

and indifferent.

And all were blessed

deserving or not.

You can count on it.

Is

In the space with zero substance,
a hole without edges or dimensions,
and time had yet to abandon zero,

a thought within the infinite Mind

that held the infinite nothingness

became the everythingness:

the first instant of eternity.

Quarks and quacking ducks,

dust bunnies and swords, dandelions.

Ink and saxophones, bacteria.

Ballerinas, quarterbacks, artichokes.

I woke. I forgot to tell you,

what I dreamt as I slept

until the cat woke me with

a toe bean touch on my cheek.

And I wondered why my dream

was about the architectural

techniques of trap door spiders.

Left overs

French toast, enchiladas

puttanesca, rice pudding.

casseroles, omelettes,

salsa, chimichurri. 

Mom saved bacon grease

in a Folgers coffee can.

Never bought bread crumbs

or chicken stock.

Where she came from,

the Texas and Oklahoma 

panhandle, they ate everything

because there wasn’t much.

Those habits stuck.

If we had pot roast,

chuck of course, she

saved the drippings.

The next day we’d have

Okie steak, bread soaked in

the drippings then fried

in bacon grease. We loved it.

The custom passed on to me,

I make enchiladas, french toast

rice pudding, chuck roast.

I save bacon grease, but I

Don’t do Okie steak, although

I’ve tried it a few times

when money was tight.

Drippings are good for

Other things. Like enchiladas.

goulash. French onion soup.

I grill extra mushrooms, peppers,

squash and onions. For omelettes. 

A terrifying thing

Twelve sparrows

fashioned from mud

in the hands of a child

took wing

when he shouted

Go, take flight!

A terrifying thing. 

Road Kill

On a late summer night

southeast of Livermore

tarantulas were on the move.

Hundreds, thousands

going somewhere

only known to them.

We drove slowly, the radio

softly playing corridos and

Conjunto Norteño songs,

trying not to squish

the armies of spiders.

We were looking for snakes.

Just to see them, mostly;

move them off the road.

Didn’t find any that night,

but we did see a San Joaquin kit fox.

A dead one, in the road. It was still

warm and had no visible injuries.

My friend wanted to take it. What? 

She said, For my collection.

It would make a beautiful mount.

We moved it off the road

instead, so it could feed

vultures, beetles, and rats.

Sad that this graceful being

the size of a small cat,

tried to cross a back road

too close to a rowdy cowboy saloon

deep in the dark heat of the Diablo Range,

fifty miles from any town.

Forks

Don’t know why

I dreamt about

salad forks.

They resemble

dinosaur feet

and Satan’s tail.

I’m not worried.

The driveway lizard's fate

I think I’ve discovered

the fate of the disappeared

driveway lizard.

A well-chewed body

minus a tail

-I think she ate it-

lay at the base

of the stairs.

-She was proud of it-

But the mystery remains,

how did the poor fellow

get in the house?

Perhaps a prize

brought in last week

when she made her

brief unsanctioned foray

out the poorly closed

front door? 

A toy for a few moments

until she got bored

and the lizard found

refuge somewhere

under the chest of drawers

in the foyer? Or perhaps

beyond claws reach

under the couch

in the living room.

It’s been a week

since the cat’s foray, so

perhaps the bluebelly lizard

thought there was

an opportunity to escape.

Maybe Lizard is called

the Dreamer with good reason.

Mind far away in the moment.

I hope not. Or I’m doomed.