ARIA

After years of embarrassment
I have finally come into the light.
It isn’t that my writing has improved,
although I surmise that would
be a narrow space to fill,
or that I can now draw things
that were once stick people
and animals and things.

What has improved, and
improved significantly
is my singing voice, once
a three note range, and one
not known to music,
but now I carry complex
tunes to near perfection.

If you ask how this
is possible, I will let
you in on a secret, it is
all in the audience,
and mine is now limited
to those stone deaf.

NOT EVEN CLOSE

It was Salvador Dali who once said:
“Have no fear of perfection,
you’ll never reach it.”
It might have easily have been
my creative writing professor
in College, although he would
have added, “and in your case
I doubt you’ll ever get close.”

Well over time I have
certainly proved Dali right,
although I’d like to think
the esteemed professor
missed the mark, but
as Cage said, Nicolas
not John, “Nobody
wants to watch perfection.”

HOUSING CRISIS

I laid it out
with great care, insured
that it comported both
with my idea and sound engineering.

I drew it with
a draftsman’s pencil,
measured each dimension
at least twice, visually
tested every joint.

It ws the culmination
of a lifetime of trying,
my final success, after
which I would stop,
there being no need
to improve on almost perfection.

Building it took time,
but I completed it,
finished it, and readied
it for display to the world.

The dog walked over,
looked in, looked quizically
at me, and raised his leg
at the neatly arched entrance.

CLOCKING

I never expected this, he said. It came from out of nowhere. None of us predicted it. It’s a sort of thing that happens elsewhere, but not here, at least that was our assumption. We certainly never wanted it to come to this. But come it did, and so we accepted it. We learned to like the placidity of its face. We were lost for a while but our lives returned to their normal pace, the rhythms of the day overwhelmed us, and our lives went on. We never bothered to fashion a new year. We were satisfied with perfection twice each day.

KEEP THE NIRVANA

He was never one to go searching.
It took up too much time.
It certainly took far more effort
than the results usually warranted.
And there wasn’t anything in particular
he wanted to go in search of.
She said she was searching for ecstasy.
He said he could buy it downtown,
but it had grown rather pricey.
She said she meant that state of being,
that state of spiritual perfection.
He said you couldn’t buy that downtown,
though there were a couple of pastors
in the suburbs who claimed to be able,
for a proper donation, to provide it.
She said she couldn’t pay for what
was promised in the Bible,
she would simply search and wait.
She had faith.
He said he had searched
for faith once, and failed.
That, he said, was when
he gave up searching for things.