What If I Get a Prompt for a Poem I Have Already Written

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JULY 4TH
(In the Year of the Terror)

The news is bad, they say
Charlie emails that he’s loading up the car
“Head north,” he writes, “we’ll meet in Alberta.”
I go to the bookshelf
grab my copy of Blake in its stained plastic cover
take my raincoat from the closet
Olson, Whitman, Emily Dickinson
look for my passport, warm shirts, jeans
Barbara Holland, Kerouac, Bob Kaufman
pack up all the spaghetti, rice, flour
Han Shan, H.D., Audre Lorde
my tool box, boots
Eileen Myles, cummings, my own books
what’s left of the bourbon; water jugs, coolers
my current notebook — & the one just before
Charlie is in Chicago, a head start to Canada
I’m in a rush:
toss all my pens in a box, blank notebooks
some towels rolled up in my sleeping bag
almost forgot:
Paul Blackburn, Sappho, Cafavy
a gas can & the tire pump
Corso, yes, & Against Forgetting
I’m ready to go!
–if I need to
but for now
I sit back
open a beer
and wonder, who did I forgot?

BIRTHDAY POEM 2022

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The Gift

While the day is “about me”
it’s not all about me
the boxes of gifts from 
Blake & Jack, & Jane & Neil —
gorilla card, scribbled on bird house
peace-sign coaster
Jack’s book Song of My Elf
— from Blake incense
hand-made cards, candles
Patti Smith, a Tree-of-Life necklace
for folks to comment on into the night
(“the Heavenly Tree grows downward”
said the poet Gerrit Lansing)
— the gift of Mary’s massage
a poem card back to her
our gift to each other: years of poems & gossip
later even the gift of a nap for me
cards, the simple notes on Facebook
(that it’s easier makes it no less special
one does have to make the effort, do one?)
my gift to myself becomes a gift to others
glad to see me to see them
the gift that they are here
that I am here with them
the gift of passing it on
hugs, text messages, tips
poems, the memories, the genes
the gift of sliding into the generations
to slide into the sea
to put ashes into pendants
to be passed down until
until … until

Stump Poems #23

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This is where we sat
                                 No, stood, we were trees
while folks sat under our shade
                                 & long before that
Now we are gone
                                 soon to be new shade
I'll miss the scent of coffee
                                 & I'll miss the conversation.

(March 8, 2021
Madison Cafe,
Madison Ave.,
Albany, NY)

Stump Poem #21

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Oh,
how many times
has this tree — now a stump —
stood here with me
as I waited for the bus?

But now when the bus comes
I can see it clearly
without a tree in the way.

(November 9, 2020
538 New Scotland Ave.
Albany, NY)

Stump Poem #20

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Therese’s Stump

I passed this Titan
each morning for
17 years walking
to work — knew
whose bedroom
it shaded
it pushed up
the land, warprd
the sidewalk
where I walked.

(September 28, 2020
478 New Scotland Ave.
Albany, NY)