Happy Birthday, Old Man!
Every birthday I weigh less.
I’m down to the last hole on my belt.
There’s more hair in the clothes dryer,
than on my head.
If I hold my sharp elbows steady
on the table, line up my better eye,
& peek through the doughnut hole
I see the person I’ve become,
so small I can sleep on your tongue.
Tending The Rules of Affection
It’s that time again when my white cat Penelope stretches out
twice her length on the cerulean blue sofa without a hint of purpose
& ignores all entreaties for affection, licking one curled paw
after the other, undisturbed in her lazy repose until dinner,
or a suitable time in the late afternoon when the fins of the sun,
warming her like a towel from the dryer, begin their ritual
climb up the wall, retreating across the ceiling to the horizon to bed
for the night, leaving her purring in the room painted lavender and teal.
Her milky twilight aura twins the moon’s corona. Was I wrong
to interrupt her? Gently smooth her silky back hairs from ear to tail,
only to fall victim to claws ejecting faster than a snapping mouse trap
followed by crimson scratches etched like a road map across the back
of my hand. A good lesson learned. If only she were the solicitous way
of my golden retriever, Malakai, who happens to be mahogany not golden.
She’d have a virtuous spunk, a protective function, a playful nature panting,
forever panting. But would I if I could exchange Penelope’s bold aloofness,
her endearing rubs against my neck, her scrambling after a stupid fish
on a string, for anything? Malakai barks at his own shadow, drools
on the bed, and tries to hump my neighbor’s leg. What to make of all of this?
The rumbly snore of an obedient dog? The rippling purr of an independent cat?
By 10 pm my Hulu binge is five episodes deep. Absolutely the best time
for another cup of hot tea with lemon or honey, undecided, who’s the most adorable.
Allan Ebert writes:I was published in numerous online and print journals in 2023-2024 including, Samfftyfour; Ariel Chart, Winged Penny Review, The Bluebird Word, and Bourgeon. I have five poems forthcoming in The Academy Of The Heart. My poem, A Pretty Room For My Books, was published in the Mid-Atlantic Review (inaugural issue) and nominated for a 2023 Pushcart Prize. I write what falls on my noggin (a cancer-surviving boomer) revise, revise, and feel happiest when writing, published or not (although being published is nice!). My motto is based on a quote from James Baldwin: “You want to write a sentence as clean as the bone. That is the goal.”
Image: Isoda Koryūsai, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
