They breathed a sigh of relief,
came to their senses and realized
they had been around each other
non-stop for about a century and
old ghosts back to Adam and Eve
kept rearing their heads, nosing
their way in, turning and point-
ing to their backsides as if to
say, “There. Take that! We’ve
still got a hold on you.” The
ghosts spent most of the century
arguing with each other and they
had never even met when they were
alive. One ghost wore a house
dress popular among house wives
in the 50’s and another ghost
wore a plain, grey sweatshirt,
something he could wear while
working as a working stiff and
relax in as a working stiff re-
laxing. Both ghosts were real-
ly resentful and angry about
how they had been cheated in
life which proves on some ther-
apist’s couch that the notion
we become all sweet and smiley
after death is a crock, at least
in the lives of the ones who
are still around and have been
with each other non-stop for
a century or, at least, it
feels that way sometimes.

he thought about Resting on the couch
           and thEn he thought
that he needs to Linger for awhile
  in god’s welcomIng arms
      in the centEring prayer that 
          brings Forth energy for the tasks 
at hand.

he questioned Why he felt so 
	   tirEd.
       was it All the busyness 
    swirling aRound them?
       or was It something more
   like their Not getting along and 
       not undErstanding why? 
    Is it the Seven-year-itch at twenty
          yearS?

The sea of seagulls
sits on the warm July
sand as salt-less
water slaps birds’
wings. The flutter
reveals it is not
a snow mound.

The man and his wife sit on the
back pew. He observes all the
white and bald heads in front of
him, heads a lot like his. He ob-

serves a hyper-kinetic, jumping
for joy or is that anxiety, middle-
aged, white, female preacher and
a youngish, second career, ass-

ociate pastor jacking up things
with very few kids who come up
for the children’s message. The
white heads nod and chuckling

is heard throughout the congreg-
ation. A very, old, white, lay-per-
son reads the scripture for the day
— very badly. White heads bobble

in embarrassed laughter. At least
members of the congregation will
have something to talk about after
the service and coffee hour as they

wend their way to lunch in their
Buicks and Cadillacs– do you
think Sarah is losing it? The man
and his wife chitchat for awhile

with other older, white people
after the service and suggest to
each other an inexpensive Asian
restaurant where they will again

see a sea of white people with
white heads. He and his wife sit
in the back pew of the rainbow
coalition congregation and the

man observes identical toupees
touching, males with shaved
heads and arms around each
other, a few dowagers with

Parkinson-like shakes under
their wide-brimmed hats mak-
ing the hats look like flying
saucers about to crash, a choir

all a twitter, a, young black,
female associate pastor who
tries to explain liberation theo-
logy to white and Hispanic

kids in the children’s sermon
and a gay pastor who tells great
jokes and runs back and forth
in his flowing robes across the

chancel switching rolls from
choir director to preacher and
back again. With a black hat and
sword he would look like Zorro

saving Don Carlos’ hacienda.
The congregation chuckles as he
shifts gears, ascends the pulpit,
catches his breath and prepares

to tell another joke before embark-
ing, on an engaging, entertaining
sermon. After the service, old gays
look the man up and down, say hi

to him and nod to his wife; young
gays ignore the man and his wife
as if they are invisible or worse,
sit by themselves and occasionally

glance surreptitiously at the few
straight people and couples on
the other side of the fellowship
hall and then appear to whisper

to each other. He and his wife
ask to sit at a table with two,
gay, black men, one of whom
thumbs through an explicit, gay

magazine. After several minutes
of awkward conversation initiated
and carried mostly by the man
in a nervous rapidity, the men

excuse themselves, get up and
move to another table filled with
gays. The man and his wife sug-
gest to each other an Asian

restaurant down the street for
lunch where they will sit amidst
Hispanics, blacks, Asians, none
of whom will speak to the man

and his wife or each other for
that matter. A few people nod
as they make their way to the
car. Maybe they will take a

bike ride in the afternoon be-
fore it gets too hot. They feel
themselves moving toward
irrelevancy and death.

He sat
with the computer on his lap
urging his wife to look at a site.
She said she might.
He forgot the computer was on his lap
and not on the counter; oh, what a sap.
He offered the computer
to her
to look at the site
which he was sure would give her delight
while he rose to take a cat nap for a sap.

the man Crept along the 
	Edges of life
 partialLy 
    awarE of his surroundings.
   on a Big, beautiful summer set moon
 on the Razor’s edge of 
       mAum-ee river, knowing the river 
  flows Through 
        It, the man experienced 
    persOnal 
enlighteNment, thanked jesus, buddha and lao 
tsu, too!

at most he hAd ten minutes
of
  life
     left.
       this Man 
     recoverEd 
quickly--
          a New lease on 
        life!
and so much 
                    gratitude.