New Poem: RIFFING ON FERLINGHETTI

 did the fun thing

 made the love thing

 tried to get the hang of the work thing

 spent the last year on the lockdown thing

 then the smiling mortician appeared

 telling me I had a disease 

 this disease could be held at bay

 for a few years perhaps 

 before the house wins

 and my affairs demand ordering

 >

 how best to make the most of what remains,

 I think to myself 

as the smiling mortician drives away

New Poem: MAGICAL IMPULSIVENESS

literal minded people
see the president saying no to masks
leader of the free world displays revulsion
like spayed/neutered cats and dogs
wearing Elizabethan collars
>
masks tossed to pavement
laid on top of trash and recycle bins
people squeeze through discount stores
acting as if they’re in THE MUSIC MAN
thinking they’re using Professor Hill’s think system
>
if we don’t wear masks
and we stand six inches instead of six feet apart
and if everyone else we see does this,
we’ll play our instruments perfectly
and no disease will ever bother us
in our blissful oblivious state
of magical impulsive recklessness

New Poem: 5700 CHANNELS

inside most days of the week

turn on regular television 

stories of front lines

bad self-given haircuts

everyday heroism

switch to cable news

president blaming others for disease 

sometimes New York governor joins in

go to streaming services

Netflix now doing dating shows

of the kind I turn on Netflix to avoid

here’s YouTube

sing along with the musicians

locked down in their homes

how I wish to see a concert again 

without catching the disease

find obscure movie channel on tablet

watch Chris Mitchum, son of Robert

in badly dubbed 80s action movie

stop thinking of indoor living for now

get those bad guys, Chris