POEMS FROM
LADY RUTHERFURD'S CAULIFLOWER

NOT FINISHED

Is human thought
an elongated view
of one spark kindled
in the breech
with physics rubbed by poetry.

Or are we horizontal
where focus comes
as brush fires
everywhere at once:

our energies expand
as we extinguished all
save man.

I do not pretend to human thought
except my dog Saucepan,
has an intelligence
I do not know.

CITIZEN TOM PAINE

Your birth was questioned.
Your death is certain.
Your life transfigured all.
No live "The United States of America"
without you.

No death to monarchies everywhere.
And, god, too, assigned his proper place.
Still every new life blessed
from citizen to country.
How soon we forget
who are ancestors are.

We nourish on the fruit of your labor.
We breathe air free from tyranny.
We trod on soil not owned by divine right
nor claimed by kings or queens.

We live by the rule of law however imperfect
with tragedy we have forgotten you,
Tom, I apologize.

THE WOES OF A SHEAFFER FOUNTAIN PEN

My finger curls
in habit
around my pen
but won't write your name.

A tear floats down my nose
as it always does
in feeling your name
rush to my fingertips.

You've been gone,
forever now,
at least since your birth
sprang half-formed on my lips.

I tried to touch you
your skin melted.
You were really gone
to where I don't exist.

I tried to be your friend
but you said that wouldn't do
for I was just latching on
not letting go.

Your memory clogs my finger
and won't write your name
a bitterness I don't deserve
just for having loved you.

FRANCIS GARY POWERS

I come from a long ways away
where little birds
flutter in pine trees
building nests
for small blue eggs
that hatch into creatures
having the same bones
as I.

Only they can fly;
I can't.