Iyla Grace 7.0

  Iyla Grace 7.0 hits the streets today.  Imagination is blooming in this release.  Iyla loves to read and be read to.  She will sit eyes-wide-open for as many films as Mama and Papa permit (no more than one a day).  Iyla is the author of endless stories and enlists her family members to act-out the parts –– a favored role for little sister, Eloise, is pet dog ;) ... My heart swells for this kid.  Happy Birthday, Little Buddy!

Other Couples Are Foreign Countries

You can visit them
like one visits Indonesia
or South Africa

or Brazil,

but you are a tourist
encountering 

the Chamber-of-Commerce's
promotional exhibit,

the Ministry of Propaganda's 

redacted adaptation.

You must venture beyond

the guarded perimeter

to experience the primal truths

of romantic coupling:

        wander stark-naked 

        into the wilderness,

        go full native 

        with the indigenous,

        sacrifice 

        to their heathen gods,

        paint your flesh with 

        the blood

        of their enemies.

All are born savage.

The barbarian lurks beneath

a veneer of civility.

Some conceal it more than others,

many from themselves.

This is especially the custom
of social media mavens

who broadcast a tinsel parade 

through the capital square 

while their union rots 

at its foundation.

Each of us is on all fours

with a stranger, 

toiling for glimpses 

of the transcendent,

seizing them, at best, 

enough to prolong 

the alliance.

There is nothing to envy
but those magnificent moments
discovered
in your homeland.

**First published in Barbar Literary Magazine

Galveston, Texas (2019)

  One last gasp of summer before school begins:  Galveston, you won us over with your casual charm, Victorian architecture, friendly locals, the sun, sand and surf.  Eloise met the "big, salty ocean" this week.  Both girls were determined to prove Papa wrong -- "mermaids are real!"  I anticipate a return next summer to continue the search ;)

Eloise Jane 3.0

  Eloise "Weezy" Jane turns three-years-old today.  New words are emerging daily in her vocabulary ("poop" and "pee" remain staples).  Version 3.0 gives the best, full-body hugs –– this kid is a champion snuggler; she asks for privacy when on the potty, and wants to know where her big sister is at all times ... Happy Birthday, Lady Eloise!  

Mexico City (2019)

Julene and I heard enough praise from Mexico City travelers to compel a visit.  Three days of immaculate weather, cultural and culinary discovery, and warm, welcoming people made for a pleasant experience ... Muchas Gracias, Ciudad de México.  Hasta luego!

Wedlock

He does not complain

when she drinks too much at parties.

A solemn reserve masks his displeasure.
He is far too well mannered
to provoke a scene.

While other couples quarrel
over cocktail-party etiquette,
he maintains a decisive restraint,
even as she betrays
their most intimate affairs.

He does not censor her language
with unfamiliar guests,
though she spooks the delicate among them 

with brash comedy
and wild gesticulation.

She croons to inviting men
when she finds him inattentive
and suffers aloud when he scorns
her amorous invitation.

Long after others have bid goodnight,
he coaxes her to the car
and drives them home, 

stopping along the rain-soaked freeway
so she may vomit

her memory of the evening.

He watches her beneath the streetlight,

praying for a life

they once imagined together.

In the bedroom, he rebuffs her advance,
insists she remove her soiled attire.

OK, Boss, she mutters.

You're the boss.

He draws a warm bath,
presents fresh underclothes,
and waits for her to change.


**First published in Duck Lake Journal

Conscientious Objector

The war began in adolescence:

up,

down,

up,

down,

up,

down.

Each year, the burden grew heavier:

up,

down,

up and

down.

At first, the mission was clear.

Older boys called him "Bones".

The Cullen Brothers

delighted in yanking down his shorts

before playground girls.

He would build armor:

          DO NOT MESS WITH ME!

Pickup basketball,

Little League baseball,

long afternoons on his BMX bike,

all surrendered

to the clanging of iron plates.

He memorized routines from 

The Encyclopedia

of Modern Bodybuilding.

He strapped on a weight belt

because the big men wore them.

Missing a workout

felt like desertion.

Mirrors lined every wall,

leaving nowhere to hide.

No matter how much armor he forged,

the mirror found another flaw.

Now, his enlistment

has outlasted the enemy.

The Cullens have vanished.

The laughter stopped.

Only the campaign remains.

He questions what will be gained

from another thousand bench presses,

longs to become

a conscientious objector:

up,

down,

then out for good.

Mornings, rather than suffer the gym,
he will languish on the front porch,

coffee in his fat Hemingway mug,

the cat claiming a chair beside him,

Wagner drifting thought the screen door.

Joggers file past,

their sweaty flanks flapping in protest.

He raises his mug in salute.

Tomorrow, he will report for duty.