Tuesday, November 24, 2015

When I am old

when I am old,
I will read trashy French novels while smoking Camels,
still wearing my flannel pajamas at 2 in the afternoon.
empty coffee cups will surround me in the morning
to be replaced by empty wine glasses after noon,
there will be no job and the grandchildren won't be allowed
into the blue haze of my little house.
I will be outlawed in Boulder where smoking is not allowed.
when I am old,
I won't give a damn about other people's opinons,
I'll write translations from English to French,
making sure to include all the French swear words
that Michele taught me.
That way, no one will think I am not a native speaker.
Once a month, I'll wash the sheets along with my pajamas.
No one will notice or care.
On Sundays, I will shower and go see the children,
I will hug my grandchildren and feed them candy.
Then I will go home and relax after
 a demanding day well spent.

Monday, November 23, 2015


I put my butt down on the ground so no one will see.
I hope Dad hides the medicine box that says "De-worming".
he found out that I got worms from eating dead mice
or other unsavory things, disgusting, he says.
Mom is even more grossed out and I feel
embarrassed for them.
They're doing laundry of everything I've been
in contact with and checking my behind.
Me, I'm fine with it even though I pretend to 
be otherwise to they'll feel better and 
we can pretend I won't do it again, 
eat that gross, disgusting, dead stuff,
but we all know inside that I will,
and I'll love every bite.
The box says to deworm every 6 months.
That's fine if it makes them feel better about it.
Me, I don't care, it's all in the life of a dog. 

Saturday, November 21, 2015

The Old Scott Bicycle

My first real bike, before I knew that the bike
should be the right size for the rider.
it didn't matter, I fell in love at first sight,
the rust colored frame, the fact that the 
seller was the ex-wife of a Tour de France
cyclist, how romantic...
speed would come naturally.
and so, we spent time together and 
rode many roads.
and now, my first real bike becomes
my daughter's bike, it will fit her better
but will never be loved as much.

Friday, November 20, 2015

The first snow

we have been waiting, now 
bundled against the cold, I jog down the
street bathed in the glare of a headlights,
head down to the wind.
we have waited so long and the skis
are trembling in the basement, 
S is buying whiskey to warm us.
the snow is falling with abandon in the 
mountains, swirling dervishes of white
will cover the slopes followed
by the brittle crisp early morning,
the new snow will sparkle with 
the sun, our skis will whir.

Thursday, November 19, 2015


it will be played differently every time,
like life plays out, the same players, a different tune.
sometimes fast, sometimes slow, a few missed notes,
sometimes the smoothest, fastest run, a few extra
notes thrown in for good measure,
you can walk away anytime and throw the 
music to the wind,
there is a new one in everyone's step, 
all they have to do is pick up a pencil
and write it.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Poetry Redux

It is indeed a dark fall night,
the earth is calling out for snow.
I hear a car pass by the house,
the muffler needs to be replaced.
you are on the East Coast again,
I'm not sure where,
is there another word for "tired".
I need a long nap to open my mind,
if I think too long, the ideas stop flowing
and all I hear is the fly bouncing against
the walls.
it moves too quickly to swat.
Tonight will be unlike any other,
the perfect string of Tuesdays.
it's slightly overcast
and the leaves have already fallen to the ground.
my pink jacket is awaiting the morning dawn,
next to the dog's leash. 

Sometimes I read a poem in the NYT, like the one in the picture and wonder why it's considered so great, but it is fun to make another poem off of it.  ; )

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

taking the night off

I'm taking the night off,
no one will want to hear about my happiness
at solving a first order differential equation
using Matlab, while the world is looking for
terrorists in Belgium.
Maybe I should not be so happy.
I'll take a break from writing poetry tonight
but tomorrow I will write a poem
based on one I read in the New York Times.
It made me happy to read that poem and
wonder how such an assemblage could be
admired but then remembered there is more
than one solution to that equation.