Poetry

I found the notebook I took east with me in February, and it contained three poems I never input to my computer. (I took a computer with me, Patrick's eee-pc, but the poems were scrawled in the notebook.) It's a very nice Marimekko notebook with a terrific Cross pen. Unfortuntely, I collect notebooks and pens, and both can get lost in the multitudes.

Anyway, here are the poems. They are not great, but I kind of like them:

Plane Lunch

High above the white clouds --
a liverwurst sandwich
on soft, white bread.

I hasten to add, it was not my liverwurst sandwich on soft, white bread. It belonged to the guy across the aisle. He appeared to enjoy it.

Thaw Poems

I.

Temp above freezing --
great heaps of dirty snow
melt into wet streets.

II.

No longer lithe,
I cannot leap
over great heaps
of frozen snow.
Better they go.

Fashion Statement on the 94-B Bus

I'm looking at young people,
thinking how good they look,
when a guy with his pants falling off
and his red and white undershorts showing,
gets on the bus.

I am probably being unfair to the guy with his pants falling off. People mocked what I and my friends wore when we were young. Now, I'm doing the same.

I like the thaw poems best, I think because I'm mocking myself, not other people.