Dinner with the boss

chief of surgery

a late evening

outdoor summer thing

she comes around the corner

in her yellow embroidered

mexican peasant dress

blonde curls in disarray

haven’t you got somethin’ nixon-y

wide eyes open

didn’t you want to take




This I wrote for my dear friend who passed three years ago.


I will never marry

and I will live in China

a dark haired man

will love me

and bring me tea


my daughter is a poet

as images flow from her

like the ancients rode

upon the swelling sea


I’ll shake hands with mother theresa

she holds onto nothing

for in our lack of possessions

we are free


my brother, he still loves you

oh please come to California

be with us forever

till we leave


for Colorado

in the winter of our cabin

where the dogs lie soundly sleeping

hear the crackling of the branches

o’er laden by the snow


the rhythms of the water

and I am in Australia

by the sea

the salt and sun blond

chestnut tresses

I think of you and me


you were the oh so small one

delicate and fair

you thought I was substantial

I was only vapor holding air


now you see me waving

tanned and young and sexy

from my surfboard in Hawaii

I wish you could be there


I did all that I planned to

except for that thing with china

it was those bastard communists

I didn’t have a passport

and hated constant fear


I have said thank you and I love you

to life and everybody

teach my daughter only kindness

and though your streams be muddy


remember that I love you

do the same for others

you’re not weak because you care





The place of poetry in society is to speak, to speak in a way that encourages awakening and proclaims your heart.  The place of poetry in society is to encourage others to speak, in the music of words, painting, music. . .


She is

a rose

for the bees

the midnight ocean’s



that makes you feel

your heart



Lilie 6/17