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Clatter of voices
Clink and clank of silver ware
Satiety awaits

Momentum works both ways.
A poet, not in motion,
Tends to remain in that state.

A poem does not arrive on the page
Spontaneously. It must
Be pushed.

Poetry is an equal and opposite
Reaction to some initial action
Like heartache or unexpected kindness.

Gravity is really just a strong suggestion
That I should stick around
To see what happens.

We think classical is conservative
In music literature art fashion
Greek sculptures of men and women
Paradigms of the unadorned body
But political and religious zealots
Blush at naked statues
Sculpted to the golden mean
As if breasts and penises
Diminished Athenian aspirations
Where the human form
Was the measure of all things

What is it with us and kings
Belief in mystical blood lines
From generation to generation
Like plasma racism
Perhaps a need for something
Beyond our own fragile thoughts
Assurance of cultural continuity
Right and might in capable hands
All evidence to the contrary
Clovis crowned KIng of France
At Reims in 498 AD
A partnership of Frankish royalty
And the Church anointed
With eternal oil from heaven
Brought by a dove relative
Of the one who whispered to Mary
The oil anointed French kings
For 1300 years before
Revolution leveled all
And showed inhumanity and power
Were not limited to royal blood

Puffy cloud morning
Eagles float
In the light breeze
Daffodils join this sun dappled day
Bagel breakfast outside
On the wrought iron table
Snow on distant hills
Hazy slate islands
Edge shifting green water
Shadows here and there
The wind begins
Sky darkens
Prepare for rain