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Two Very Short Poems about the Relentless March of Time

A Winter’s View of Autumn
Following September, orange October guided
November, bister and more sobersided.

The Present Moment
Forever severing and pari passu
Gathering everything old and new.

One Short Poem about Halloween

The Not Great Heist of All Hallow’s Eve
The two had a plan, even a sense of irony,
as they wore masks of Shaggy and Freddie
for the cameras. Bumped the bolt. Their heist
was some silverware and costume jewelry
thrown into a pillow case—fairly petty—
and pizza and beer from the fridge. Tomfoolery
to fall asleep, drunk in front of the TV,
to be unmasked like any cartoon poltergeist.

Three Very Short Poems in which Something is Missing

The Dragon at Peace
From any point of view upon the xyst,
one rock or another will be missed.

The Cares of an Egyptologist
“Yes and No”, he said with a cough. “Ka
outlives life—an immortal scofflaw.”

Presence & Abscess
Instead of white there,
there was just a square,
black space—odontoid.
Empty. So gone. Void.

Three Very Short Poems about Authors Who Wrote about the Sea

Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski
After years at sea, he adapted a nom
de plume
for English language readers,
still recognized as a Polish phenom,
among the very best of modern writers.

Had He Caught Moby Dick
Ahab would have had to buy a pan
to fry up all that leviathan.

The Man Who Swallowed an Ocean
The flesh eaten right off Santiago’s skeleton
became the villager’s favorite feuilleton,
but who knows what monsters from the deep
swam back to reappear in Papa’s sleep.

Three Very Short Poems about the Competitive Spirit

Lois Loses With Long Odds
She began to drum her fingers and furrow
her brow—then laid down a Yarborough.

The San Patricio Rattlesnake Races
The snake able to most quickly slither, wins—
as long as it doesn’t start withershins.

At a Competitive Eating Contest
A dozen hot dogs isn’t just skosh
or a losing total, but très gauche.

Two Short Poems on Letters and Numbers

Down on the Farm
On a page as white as milk, row
after row of black letters filled
a large field of text to be tilled
with red tools, such as a pilcrow.

Way Out There
Neither the infinite nor the infinitesimal
will you reach with yet another decimal.

Two Short Poems about Toenail Fungus

My Onychomycosis
It takes a lot of chutzpa
to walk into a foot spa.

After His Toenails Were Trimmed
He had terrible athlete’s foot
and (whenever he ran) asthma. Boric
acid helped heal his hoof,
but made jogging phantasmagoric.

Two Short Poems about German History

Industrial Strength Jadra
For access to the Baltic Sea,
Germany had to transfigure
Gdansk into Danzig. Schwer:
Poles inhabit the entire city.

Shifting Borders Among German Speaking Peoples from Archaic Times to the Present
Hops the men grew for beer the men pissed
were reason enough for any irredentist.

Four Short Poems with a Nod to German Language

Attempting to Read Der Spiegal
German words can be rather long,
the simplest speech sprechgesang.

On Trying to Read Heidegger’s Gesamtausgabe
What is worth noting about such rarefied
reasoning is that so much needs to be clarified.

Postscript to Credences of Summer
Belief demands a real leaf—gott in all
en dingen
—as September turns serotinal.

Selves Inflated by Idle Talk
Gerede comes in many 
varieties: some people prate
on and on, others repeat 
what others repeat, cut-rate—
none of it worth a penny,
but all of it free to retweet.

Two Short Poems about Animal Husbandry

A Sacred Moment of Love
Sometimes it must be now:
the moment when, er, a bull
approaches his beloved cow—
it isn’t always so venerable.

The Bored Lover Seeks Novelty
The mares seemed so last year,
so the stud mused, “That zedonk
on the far side of the pasture
has one hell of a badonkadonk.”