Equivocate —
the word for our
times, at least for
everything as
of late
including
prevaricate.

She has had her problems
starting with a father who
did things a father never,
ever should do to a dau-
ghter. Then she popped
in and out of several
marriages, had some kids,
wrote songs and then one
day in her eighth decade
she popped out again,
got a facelift and enter-
tained younger men, a
lot of younger men.
Nice going, dad.

The grill coals spill
Out on the wood deck

And the deck burns
Down starting a fire

In the house burning
It to the ground asphy-

Xiating those sleeping
At the time killing all

Four occupants and then
There are the tragedies

Of the mind where peo-
Ple cause such disasters

By omission or com-
Mission and he is glad

To have arrived at this
Advanced stage of life

Without having done
Any significant damage

Of which he is aware,
At least, or committed

Grave commissions
While he pours water

On the wood deck under
The grill just in case.

On further reflection, he
wondered if he had falsely
accused those tempting de-
lights for whom he does pine —
roasted radishes and
Brussels sprouts when
the source of his
grumbling stomach was
the martini and wine.
And so he hopes to
make it through the day
and by five be just fine
perhaps refraining from
libations at least until nine.

The smiling, farm fresh, white and red roasted
radishes swam with the sweet lemon curd, lan-
guished beside goat’s cheese,
looked up at him as if to say
I’m waiting, please.

Then tempting, saucy, organic Brussels sprouts
naked and soaking up the salty, soy sauce
also languished lovingly with a
come hither look as if to say,
I’m waiting, for you, too.

And so he yielded to temptation and
partook hungrily of these naughty
morsels of the night posing as
innocent, farm fresh, bodacious,
herbaceous delights.

And the next day, with buyer’s remorse,
he endured with great regret the Brussels
sprout and red and white radish revenge
and yet, and yet, perhaps tempted
to return to the table again.

An old-fashioned
sense of responsibility
is what the T.V.
detective called it
and in that instant
the man knew what was
missing from so much
he was experiencing
lately in relation to
the lives of, of all
things, old people
like himself, who had
been taught otherwise,
just the opposite,
in fact.
Why? Good question —
why. To the point,
succinct. One word.
“How” is science’s
bailiwick, good
question — how,
To the point,
succinct. One word.
“Why” is God’s
bailiwick,
but God
isn’t saying
so the man is left
with speculation.
He speculates —
fear. Of course
fear. Always fear.
Succinct. One word.
Fear.