doesn’t need a magazine to
teach her how to be
Real Simple – she has her
own Solutions in these realms:
organizing, meals, cleaning, life skills,
all grounded in north Idaho
and her extended family, also
has a built-in geiger counter
for complexity, so she can seek
protection when it threatens

my star neighbor
he dresses all in white
he’ll always talk to you
his yard is filled with
the most special junk
occasionally painted
royal blue

he has three cars
one he never drives
a PT cruiser cherry red
two old ones worn out
light blue Volaré
and
tan Valiant

(adapted from a star neighbor)

he wouldn’t dance with sufis
(for religious reasons, I assume)
his refusal awakened my intolerance
for those bound by “religion”
to intolerance – when we danced,
the floor became a field of
parallel but opposing spins
we worked out our mutual
attraction and repulsion while
whirling like the dervish after all

hummingbird, white wings, black art,
red box, correspondent who designed
each revelation with extraordinary care
and with black marks suppressed
extraneous comments – part of her
message too, I guess – she sent
a tiny arrow wingfeather that
pointed me towards peace
helped poets address sky from
the rim of her sipapu

I know her yard quite well –
rhubarb kale strawberry poppies
ferns and feed-the-birds arrayed
on terraced beds that lift us
up the hill of hard work
eyes raised to further hills
from whence help will someday
blaze forth brilliant as the sunset
in comparison I can offer only
dim companionship

Elmo Smythe and Elsie Dudash,
peculiar nicknames for two “most
likely to succeed” as high
school seniors – here’s what you
learn after graduation celebrations end:
success is arbitrary, not doled
out in proportion to your
brains – what happened to him?
faint rumors that he slipped
successfully into a Dismal Swamp

poetry can bring you up
raise you with its own fierce
discipline assign you chores
until you guess its name
make you take over for
the old guy that used
to run the open mike
though you’re just fifteen
its gnarly fingers mold you, clay,
into something that can hold