THE BOOKS AT OUR HOUSE

take up many shelves
in many rooms
and most of them have been read
or at least dipped into.

Some, though, stand
there waiting patiently
to be taken in hand
like unchosen girls
at the high school dance
hoping for a chance
to change my life.

Other are accusatory.
When I look their way
I hear them hiss
that I have no right not
to let them have their say,
that to keep them in this
unread state is tantamount
to crimes against humanity,
a form of felonious insanity.

Here’s one: Facts from Figures
by M.J. Moroney, a book
about statistics, four hundred
pages of formulas and graphs
(not the kind of thing
you read for laughs)
published in 1951 and
dedicated to his wife.
One can only hope she
had a sense of humor.
Sample chapter: "Association
Contingency, and Goodness
of Fit -- the X2 Distribution."

Not today.
Maybe later.

HOUSE PRIEST

"And Micah consecrated the Levite;
and the young man became his priest,
and was in the house of Micah."
-- Judges 17:12

The painter comes today.
He’ll cover over streaks and
stains we’ve committed
and make it look as though
we’ve led a pure, folly-free
existence here.

Call it our
Immaculate Deception.

WEDNESDAY MORNING, EARLY

There’s a new Perkins in town
just down the highway
from Martins Diner.
I’ve heard it’s pretty nice,
everything sparkly clean,
lots of fancy pancakes,
a sweet-looking girl
who meets you
at the door and takes
you to your table.

Got some competition now
I say to Thelma,
see if I can get her going.
She doesn’t take the bait,
just thunks my coffee
down in front of me
and stalks away. I wait
for her to bring
the half and half.
It doesn’t come.
Thing is, I say real loud
(and say it with a laugh),
from what I hear
the service over there
is great, topnotch.
That’s all it takes. I watch
her body freeze,
then turn my way.
For all I care,
she says, you can take
your hairy butt down there.
That would really make my day.

She doesn’t mean it
and knows I know.

I get up to go.
I think this time
I’ll leave a 2 dollar tip.

SNOWFALL OVERNIGHT

No matter how many times
you've seen it happen, whether
it had been forecast or not,
you will be hopelessly enchanted
when you wake to a white wonderworld.

A REFLECTION ON MICAH 4:3

Turning a sword into a plowshare
can be done with some serious
pounding and shaping. The same
goes for making pruning hooks
out of spears. To turn an automatic
weapon (think Glock) into
a useful tool is a bit more
complicated. Any ideas?

STRATEGY

Marvin has a new snowblower, bought
it last month and no doubt’s
been hoping it would snow ever
since. Now it has and he’s over there
clearing his driveway. He’s been at
it since 5 AM. Couldn’t wait
to get started even though
he doesn’t leave for work till 8.

There are rules that apply.
I can’t ask but I can
lean on my shovel and shake
my head and make
myself look pathetic and
if that doesn’t work
I can wait till I’m sure
he’s looking my way.

And wave.

KARMA KICKS IN

If you were lucky enough
to have a little sister
I hope you were kinder
to her than the boy
who took wicked
delight in filling her
days with assorted pokes
pushes and taunts all
designed to make her
cry or at least yell for
mother

If you were a nasty
little turd like that
I hope one afternoon that when
the two of you were playing
with Lincoln Logs and
you were up to your
usual meannesses

she picked one up and broke
it over your head

Lord
knows I had it
coming