Mirror, Mirror and Other Poems

LESSON FROM VOLTAIRE

Crushed orchids
Testicular testaments
Of love gone wrong
Decorate my hair

Last night, I laughed
Roses and cried
Carnations
In my sleep

This morning
I ate toast and jam
With fresh-cut daffodils
Smiling at me from a vase

Our lives are gardens
Of flowers
That need not
Include weeds

KODAK MOMENT

You never looked as good
As you did that time
The police took your photograph
After someone complained of you
I keep it in a frame
As a reminder that you are not God

NOW AND THEN

No need for grammar
Or punctuation
In poetry, or rhyme
Or reason it is enough
Just to convey feelings
About the moment
We are trapped in
Now and then

MARK TWAIN TONIGHT

I am sleeping with Mark Twain
And, sometimes, Samuel Clemens, too;
He has taken me, figuratively,
If not literally, in (and to) many places,
Wearing a multitude of faces,
But always with his ironic humor
And his odoriferous stogie on display.
Last night, a Republican, he spoke of babies
And of how Ulysses S Grant never quit
Trying to get his foot into his mouth
Until he'd succeeded, and the night before,
He spoke before the poets laureate
Of yesteryear, roasting them in smiles
And drawling pauses interspersed among
Expletives undeleted; he moons
For Laura Wright, despite Livy's giving him
Daughter after daughter and a son
Who did not quite make the cut, after all,
And he died in bed, memories beside him
To keep him snug and warm and cold and worn.

MIRROR, MIRROR

I cannot help but to compare
My tits with yours;
Mine are perfect, yours flawed;
I also put my ass side by side
With yours, and see that mine
Is gorgeous, yours revolting;
I likewise put my cock and balls
Against your cunt, and observe
Mine are handsome, yours absurd;
And then I poison the biggest
Reddest, most delicious apple
In my arsenal, and offer it to you,
Smiling all the while with pride renewed.