The darkest poems are written in dead of night,
Come when pillow turns to Jacob's stone,
The only movement lonely branches twisting to
Be free, yearning wildly to see their love,
...
Hillsides mottled green and brown
Pulled and fringed into redness
At the edges;
...
I had five hot dogs for dinner
Jen and the five kids were gone
They were off to the mall for a winner:
Five dresses for big days to come
...
Another perfect sunset aching for its perfect mate:
A dome of stars to greet the afterglow
And in the darkness silent where the earth sails onward safe
Another day turns unto night for men below
...
Ale is the happiest word in the world
When the world isn't happy at all
And the happiest ale I can think to describe
Comes from Belgium: the tripel 'Westmalle.'
...
When in the softness of spring I awake
To LIFE in the fullness of time
Beauty erupts with the vengeance it takes
On LIFE in its arrogant climb
...
I'm drinking beer from a brewery Belgian-made
I'm thinking weird from a brewery Belgium gave
To a world without... Wait...
How I'd like to say 'hate'
...
The river is not even moving today
It's as dead as a flag with no breeze
The sentiments once so inflamed in 'the day'
Are as mad as a cow with disease
...
I am just a small part of this larger thing we call 'life, '
A collection of old stones from a foundation
Long overthrown, and now overgrown
With life of another tone.
...