By: Any Other Name

If you go back to the beginning, your entrance was unclothed.

No one's born answering to “Montague” or “Capulet” or “Rose.”

The world calls names and uses packaging so it can comprehend.

You've spent life wrapped in labels, living up–or down–to them,

But if the canners missed something, some ingredient inside,

and if it wants to see the light again, I'll take it for a ride.

See, when I was made, QC was sick, or sleeping on the job.

I can show you all the places expectation has forgot.

I Contain Duelists, or Walt Whitman Would Dig It

Whitman, a populist, contained multitudes.

I contain not a woman, and very few dudes.

I contain duelists, intransigent brothers.

One geeks out at some things; one's too cool for others.

One's politically cynical; one debates such things often.

One seeks to move on while one seeks the forgotten.

On nary a thing do these brothers agree,

'Cept if something seems normal, it isn't for me.

To the Inoffensive but Defensive

I'm not a lawyer, a judge, or a court.
I won't snitch you down or write up a report.
I know you're not guilty (at least, I assume),
But I do kindly ask you to please leave the room
'Til you leave talk of following laws by their letter
and join our talk, of how one could do even better.

Dear Parents, Newsreaders, and Elementary School Teachers

Doubts are wise, and doubts are solid, when they pull reasons behind,

But without, they're the translucent, tasked with leading the half-blind.

Worse are hateful words and gossip, which nothing and no one serve.

Unnecessary and disgusting, they're LFTB made of words.

So go ahead and talk. The first amendment means the most.

Go ahead and talk. When thinking dies, it needs a ghost.

Go ahead and talk, because no matter what you say,

I won't let it shorten my day.

The Visceral Joy of the Biker

For years, I dreamed that I could fly,

But this dream didn't have to die.

Instead, it found itself replaced

By something different on its face

But similar in ways that count.

I pilot earthly, urban mounts.

I don't feel wind blow through my hair;

The rest of me cuts through the air.

I bank through turns as if on wings.

I hardly know of better things.

Just kick, stomp, twist, and off I go:

The closest thing to flight I know.

To a 1979 Honda CG

When first we met, my nerves of steel

Turned melted cheese and pounded veal.

To say I had reactions mixed

Is like to say you needed fixed.

But th'understatement of them all:

I love the ride now, bumps and all.

May 16th 2014

Brilliant plans of man, frustrated;

Students who procrastinated;

Mid-unit review holidays;

Side conversations and delays;

Lessons short-cut or derailed;

Passes, missings, excused, and fails,

Or things impossible to grade;

Review games just some students played:

Overall grade–

I'm glad I came.