Eating buttered toast --
the warm crumbs kissing my lips;
jam superfluous.
Eating buttered toast --
where's the newspaper today?
Oh yeah, it's online.
Eating buttered toast --
drinking coconut water;
what would mother think?
バターを塗ったトーストを食べる-
ココナッツウォーターを飲む;
母はどう思いますか？***********************
a tumbling leaf
blows up against the porch door,
seeks sanctuary.
The Chinese are an ancient race.
They have a giant data base.
It dates from Ming and further back;
there's is no wisdom that they lack.
And so it's no surprise to me
that they are first, creatively,
to invent the use of skis;
fermented drink; and honey bees.
They also were the prime designers
of comedy and all one-liners.
Chopsticks, paper, black gunpowder;
they even made the first clam chowder.
Silk and ivory they made
into forks and window shade.
While the rest of mankind grunted
and on all fours went and hunted
for a snail or sour root,
the Chinese dined on bamboo shoot.
No wonder that today they hanker
to rule the world and be its banker!
(Dedicated to Elizabeth Bernstein, of the Wall Street Journal.)
I wish all cherubs straight to Hell.
Their arrows for scrap I would sell.
Fondants, nugats, marzipan;
take it to the garbage man.
Cardboard hearts with tinsel bright
should burn to light up this whole night.
Plow the flower beds beneath
the frosty smarmy winter heath.
Close the cafes and thee-aye-ters;
throw Hallmark to allee-gay-ters.
Martyr Valentine anew!
With my heart he'll never screw!
Her ear lobes carry
drops of water in the pool
like diamond earrings.
She lays in the sun
as I wish away cold winds;
her closed eyes aglow.
She wears yellow gloves
to wash dishes at night;
I dry by her side.
I went to top the tank off
when my eyes beheld a sign
that said a gallon of the stuff
was ninety-bucks-and-nine.
"Woe is me!" I hollered
as my wallet shriveled up:
"I can't afford a gallon now
or even half a cup!"
I parked my car, then shot it;
so it would not suffer pain --
My motor oil and brake fluid
I poured right down the drain.
Luckily I worked at home,
and never did commute --
but any walking was a strain
and wore out boot on boot.
I tried the train; I tried the bus --
but all I did was wait and cuss.
Was I a hermit soon to be,
confined at home with my TV?
And then I met the girl next door,
and soon discovered sweet l'amour.
But she would never take a step
without a car in which to schlep.
And so she broke my heart, alas --
and all because of costly gas!
This talk of war in the Ukraine
made my love life something vain.
But then the Russians came around,
and the price came tumbling down.
Now there's gasoline galore
(but with Russia WE'RE at war . . . )
灰色の石の公園のベンチ-
冷たい融雪水を集める;
老人はそれを見つめます。
Under the black stairs --
green stains and yellowing mops;
a plastic bucket.
Under the black stairs --
shiny concrete floor and walls;
forgotten stale air.
Under the black stairs --
more black stairs and more black stairs;
there is no ending.
Moon on the mountain --
orange from the sun's last rays;
the sanguine day done.
Moon on the mountain --
the frozen snow burning red
from the failing sun.
Moon on the mountain --
waiting for the sun's last ebb;
a pale assassin.
Sven and Axel made a bet
on an athlete Soviet.
When she fizzled out, they sighed:
"Helvete! Ve took a ride!"
Next they tried a slalom team
cuz they liked their color scheme.
When their team ran last the pain
nearly tore apart their brain.
So they tried the lottery
and lost their Kroner handily.
They are betting fools extreme,
which is ev'ry Norseman's dream.
Even when the country bans
Sven and Axel's greedy hands
from disposing of their dough,
they still manage cash to blow
on the races or the wheel;
so they're mostly down-at-heel.
Whether soccer, track, or darts,
Norsemen always lose their hearts
to the sure thing coming soon --
causing all their wives to swoon.
If a bet you'd like to win
pick out any rolling pin;
then put down your ready bread
that it will hit a spiller's head!
The blurry white moon --
my insomnia;
yawning in tandem.
The blurry white moon --
a blue light on the stark cold;
tree branches blackened.
The blurry white moon --
a pill and drink of water;
back to her pink warmth.
ぼやけた白い月-
錠剤と水の飲み物;
彼女のピンクの暖かさに戻ります。