In the Clover

Among the clover 

and in the creeping Charlie, 

the occasional blade of grass, 

I reclined in the shade 

of a dying maple. 

With Rukeyser on my knee, 

I reclined and watched. 

With Rukeyser, 

I saw the coming Anschluss. 

No tanks rolled 

through the streets of Salzburg, 

Innsbruck, Linz. 

Back alleys of Vienna, 

alive with the shouts of 

“Heil, mein Führer!” 

Open arms welcomed brown shirts. 

And Rukeyser saw the future. 

We read it together 

among the clover 

and in the creeping Charlie.

Reggae at The Elbow Room

We danced to some mediocre 

reggae band. 

The joint was pretty empty, 

and we chatted about work,

beer, random current events. 

The couple at the bar was 

uncontrollable. 

All over each other, 

We couldn’t stop staring. 

With her skirt hiked up, 

his exploring hands were 

everywhere. 

As the music picked up, 

she kissed me. 

I wasn’t expecting it;

we were collogues enjoying 

a drink,

enjoying a night out. 

That kiss was startling. 

A line was crossed. 

Awkward and tired, 

we adjourned to her place,

but the cat and the feather comforter 

were too much for my allergies… 

too much for my lonely soul 

to handle. Quietly, 

I walked home, across town. 

Stopped into a diner for a cup of coffee 

and a little solitary introspection. 

That kiss, I couldn’t shake it. 

Why had she done it? 

What boundaries were traversed? 

A line in the proverbial sand 

overstepped. 

The genie would never go 

back in its bottle. 

Pandora chuckled as I tried, 

over and over again, 

to reseal her box.