New Poem GUESTS IN THE HOUSE

fell and couldn’t get up

crawled past the bewildered cats

finally found the cellphone, dialed 911

kept on hold, then gave information 

>

somehow opened the patio door

slow crawl to the garage

somehow opened the electric door

then reverse crawl from patio to den

>

a few minutes later, paramedics arrive

one of them says, mute the Dodger game on TV

another sees the books by my chair and asks

do you ever go outside?

I say yes, when the medicines and groceries run out

>

vitals checked, prescriptions recorded

lifted to my feet, not without further knee pain

decline a ride to the emergency room

>

by myself again 

should buy a cane and a walker

though I dread reduced mobility 

>

bruises, but no breaks or fractures 

time to turn off the mute button 

New Poem: For National Poetry Month 2019

for one month cleaved from twelve
take your verses to the coastline
cast them onto the water
with full confidence they will rest
on top of a temporary layer
of sugarcane that looks like plexiglass
>
this blessed state
expires at the click of midnight
on the not-so-merry First of May
when the sugarcane dissolves
literary creations submerge yet again
as public indifference reasserts itself
>
we will never see a National Poetry Year

New poem: MY FIRST SENRYU

three in the morning
watch film noir again
part of safe exciting life