Saturday, May 28, 2016

Wedding After Party



a last pocket of survivors
in a quiet world
we lift our glasses,
toast the happy couple

3 a.m. on empty roads
that glisten and smell like spring
traffic lights click away
and do their color dance
for random strangers

we stagger and sway
chatter for the newlyweds
having their wedding night

a friend throws money
into our new used truck
to bring us children
and a bit of luck

we climb in
and drive
to the next adventure


Saturday, May 21, 2016

From the Hudson Line



Chatty girls
run dialogue
through the miles
—puke stories
and mistaken texts,
who is where
and Spanish wraps.

Trackside
the mounds of rubble
are overgrown,
ghosts of labor
years ago,
dreams and hard work
now unknown.

Grind of history
merciless still,
but we power through
with power and will.



Saturday, May 14, 2016

Willis Cemetery


The cemetery
carved out of the White Mountains
has room for more
who are strong enough
to stay

Hopeful sightings of youth
among the hard old timers:
rays of light
between the shuttered homes.

Here our nation
still lives.
Here the spirits
of old settlers
make our sleek city lives
look small.


Saturday, May 7, 2016

At Kerouac’s Grave



surrounded by death
and crumbling Lowell
but we’re ready
to embrace it all
to love America
like the mad poets
of ti Jean’s dreams

we shake our white-knuckle fists
at the frowning gawkers
at the indifferent universe
at the cold stars
from our smoldering Earth

we laugh again
refueled in our crazed minds
ready to live harder
and burn in ethereal magic light
across the face of the world