Tag Archives: poem

Today’s Poem: Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window, by Charles Bukowski

Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthodox to the
west.

she is dark
of Eastern descent,
large brown eyes look up from the Bible
then down. a small red and black
Bible, and as she reads
her legs keep moving, moving,
she is doing a slow rythmic dance
reading the Bible. . .

long gold earrings;
2 gold bracelets on each arm,
and it’s a mini-suit, I suppose,
the cloth hugs her body,
the lightest of tans is that cloth,
she twists this way and that,
long yellow legs warm in the sun. . .

there is no escaping her being
there is no desire to. . .

my radio is playing symphonic music
that she cannot hear
but her movements coincide exactly
to the rhythms of the
symphony. . .

she is dark, she is dark
she is reading about God.
I am God.
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Today’s Poem: My Dog’s Feet Run To Wickedness

My Dog’s Feet Run To Wickedness

Anarchy isn’t what you are about.

There is method behind your whiskered snout.

And though God gave you no waggable tail

You are filled with glee my home to assail.

If you be Coyote, the Trickster returned,

We are not amused — now go tip over the fern.

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Today’s Poem: Goodbye President Bush

Goodbye President Bush

I’ll won’t miss the solipsistic swagger,

The mooing eyes, the pouting anger,

But I’ll wave in grandeur like an Italian duke

To see your finger leave the nukes.

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Today’s Poem: Intoxication

Intoxication

Henry David Thoreau said that a match was finally found for him: he fell in love with a shrub oak.

I always thought he was a few bricks short of a load.

Brilliant and prophetic, no doubt.

But where was the moistness, the fever dreams?

He had one human love — early and unrequited. Then he turned his attention to trees and the Merrimack river and barn swallows flying across the face of the moon.

Well, now that I think about it.

Maybe he was on to something.

Today’s Poem: The Ant, by Ogden Nash

The Ant

The ant has made himself illustrious
Through constant industry industrious.
So what?
Would you be calm and placid
If you were full of formic acid?

Today’s Poem: The Ostrich, by Ogden Nash

The ostrich roams the great Sahara.
Its mouth is wide, its neck is narra.
It has such long and lofty legs,
I’m glad it sits to lay its eggs.