Medium Social

I like turtles
I like dogs and cats
I like cleavage
don’t hate me for that
I like sunrise, beer and steak
and all the pictures that you take
of your little baby cakes
I’m just a medium social guy
but I can’t help wondering why
Why can’t the world be a safer place
why don’t I have a prettier face
why is it so hard to ever win a race
why doesn’t everyone keep the Golden Rule
why don’t people in positions
of responsibility
really looked out for the interests
of folks like you and me
that would be so cool
I like turtles
I like dogs and cats
I like cleavage
don’t hate me for that
I like sunrise, beer and steak
and all the pictures that you take
of your little baby cakes
I’m just a medium social guy
but I can’t help wondering why
Why it’s easier to be critical
than it is to be correct
why do I keep taking the easy way
when I know what to expect
Folks been talking about Judgement Day
for a couple thousand years
why aren’t they more nervous
when it seems to be drawing near
I like turtles
I like dogs and cats
I like cleavage
don’t hate me for that
I like sunrise, beer and steak
and all the pictures that you take
of your little baby cakes
I’m just a medium social guy
but I can’t help wondering why

Unqualified

I can not claim to be
anything but a mess
it may be my only
unqualified success
I wouldn’t even want to
hazard a guess
as to how many times
my little heart’s been blessed

I don’t mean any harm
I’m just marginally aware
of hundreds of things
that other people care
about, and it often
bites me on the derriere
even though it’s my own fault
it makes me want to swear

Just a creature of habit
many of which are bad
loyal to the traditional sins
our ancestors had
if it was not available
to my grandpa or my dad
I leave it to the younger set
No one ever called me “rad”

Not really a bad guy
just not good for much
this 21st century
has me feeling out of touch
I keep stumbling along
not looking for a crutch
though I wouldn’t mind some answers
if you could call them such

Small Shrine

Thinking about things
that Nature abhors
vacuums and politics
and revolving doors
resistance to gravity
must be on the list
so I’m not sure
what to think about this
tiny cairn that I find here
work of a passing
artist or engineer

No Stonehenge, just a small
shrine to our insistence
to make some mark
on our existence
how long it may last
no one can say
but I honor the impulse
and let it stand today

Regret

On the day after the stormy night
the sky and the clouds astonished
a lusty wind like a boisterous friend
had me thinking about a wish

The radio joined the conspiracy
Spencer Davis, the Boss, and Lionel
brought back a time when I was free
to tell the Man to go to hell

But I’m trying to be a grown-up
though I don’t like to admit it
So I did what I was supposed to do
though I often times regret it

Driving Home at Midnight

Driving home at midnight
Lucinda and Arlo
and Bonnie on the radio
Lake Charles and New Orleans
an angel flying from Montgomery

a fat yellow half moon
rises through a cloudy haze
disappears in a turn behind trees
tantalizing in and out of sight

and the moon and the music
are temptations to
drive on, drive on
with no destination
in sight or in mind
just to be in a moving moment

but air conditioning and bottle
and bed have been waiting
patiently for my return
moments of stillness
are the new moving moments

the luster of moonlit midnight roads
is brighter in my mind
than behind the wheel
and destined destinations
will not unwind
as aimless wanderings
so often do

but the question remains,
has age brought wisdom
or just fatigue
and a lack of ambition

Non-Reaper

In the time of the Harvest
specters of things unsewn
are as cruel as the empty basket
and it is no consolation
that the locusts went hungry too

Sure, the birds of the air are fed,
but a rib eye seems to require
a bit more foresight than
seeds and crumbs
or the bread we cannot
live on alone

Not knowing what you’ve got
til it’s gone and realizing what
you could have had, right after it’s
too late to get it are the heads
and tails of regret

If a little time and effort
are the keys to transforming
your fields of stone
into those waves of grain
it is indeed foolish to wait
for the earth to plow itself.

Stance

I’m conservatively liberal
moderately radical
my right hand doesn’t know
what my left may do
the fake and the real
are disastrous deals
til doing no harm is
the most we can aspire to.

If you’re told you can have
your cake, and eat it, too,
someone might be playing you
find that hard place by a rock
and try to hold on to your socks