My grandmother made the
best, wholesome, homemade
bread ever. But my mother,
never baked a loaf in her
life. She bought store-bought
and I loved it almost as much
as my grandmother’s whole-
some homemade, warm and
wonderful with melted butter.
It was like a foreign object —
spongy, soft, with many tiny
holes, like something I had
never seen before but came to
love. When I squeezed it, I
now compare it to something
I have seen on TV — bears
squeezing toilet tissue.
As I squeezed the bread, I’m
sure I heard it breathe inside
its cellophane packaging. I
would grab a slice, tear off
the soft, brown (dare I call
it?) crust, gobble it up
and squeeze the slice into
a ball of dense, doughy
wonder and pop it into my
mouth, then chew and chew
and chew and swallow really
hard and run to the sink
for a drink.

The therapist said, “I want you to
envision her as she was. Give me
a physical description.” “Little,
shriveled, pinched.” “And why
does she hold such power over
you?” “Lack of acceptance, lack
of affirmation, lack of demonstrable
love.” “She’s gone.” “Well, not really.”
“She’s occupying way too much of
your space.” And they went on with
it. And now he has to remind himself
that she isn’t his wife when his wife
says something that triggers the
negativity. “Yes,” he thinks his
therapist would have said, “Remind
yourself. You don’t want anymore mis-
placed aggression in your life. Besides,
your wife is a beautiful, affirming
person who just happens to be human.
And furthermore, it isn’t any good for
your blood pressure.” And with that
memory, he let out a deep sigh.

The all-electric, sleek, luxury sedan
sped silently through the empty
streets of the city at night while
the man, watching the advertise-
ment, only heard sounds of the city
as the car tore around corners
and through straightaways. The man
wondered if the TV addicted president
has seen the ad and, if so,  wondered
if the president saw the ad as a meta-
phor for his presidency — luxurious,
smooth, sleek, the only show in town.
If so, thought the man, the president
once again would  be delusional. Rather,
a lumbering, gas-guzzling, air-pollut-
ing, noise-polluting behemoth that
stalls out before reaching its destin-
ation or is stopped short by law en-
forcement officers would be more to
the point, and while that, of course,
would be a commercial never made,
it is an actual made for TV reality
show running out of gas, ratings and
due to be cancelled.
.

He stood on the balcony
and cast swine before pearls.
In the celebration of resurrection
he blathered about his kingdom.
Instead of lifting up the babies
he seemed oblivious to them.
Children chased the eggs.
He laid one claiming a child said,
“Please build the wall.”
He said, “Let the children at the
border suffer. Besides, they can’t
vote for me.”
Jesus said, “Suffer the little
children to come to me, for
to such belongs the Kingdom
of God.”

He, a thirty-some-year-old Korean-American,
mathematician, two years widowed writes
of theoretical physics and equations
to understand
the desperation
of his grief
at the death of his wife
and to help understand
the guilt
in his bifurcated life.

She, a forty-some-year-old Indian-American,
poet, four years widowed writes
in metaphors and similes
to understand
the desperation
of her grief
as the widowed wife
and to help understand
her bifurcated life.

He, a seventy-some-year-old, white guy,
remembers his late wife
in twenty-five years
of a bifurcated life.

Maybe sometime beyond time
and beyond the speed of light,
they won’t lead a bifurcated life.

The simple, common (growing less common)
usage is “Is there something I can help with?” Not
ending with a preposition, with the approval of a
high school sophomore English teacher, and more
often written than spoken, “Is there something with
which I can help?” Either way, spoken genuinely,
gently, caringly, compassionately, the world melts
with “Sure. That would be nice,” or “No. That’s okay;
I’m okay, but thanks,” or a shake of the head, yes
or no and a smile or tear or both — of gratitude.

*Once when I was having a frustrating time with
our new rescue Lab, a person, passing by, stopped
the car and, and with an air of superiority and
a tone of moral judgment, feigned an offer to
help but really wanted to put me down with an
accusation after a gross assumption of what was
transpiring. If that person simply had asked if
I needed help in a voice that confirmed the offer,
I believe everything would have been different;
I believe everything could be different, if….

Four fox kits clambered
up rocks to the waterfall
for sips of water.

They left for the den.
One came back to drink some more.
Where was the kits’ mom?

Easter morning, a young
fox chased a field mouse

through dune grass, which
will be mowed tomorrow —

the old grass providing a
perfect, if temporary, hunting

ground. The same tawny fox
chased a bird flying low behind

Norway Spruces. The fox
might have caught the mouse

but, for sure, missed the
little bird, but, still, thought

the person watching
the action, it was a beaut-

iful morning for a real
life hunt — for something

other than pastel colored
Easter eggs in a church yard.

The Mueller Report and
Attorney General’s Summary:

Moneyed, Republican white guys
going easy on moneyed, Republican
white guys.

Alternate scenario:

Moneyed, Republican white guys
passing judgment on a black:

Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

*Strange Fruit written by Abel Meeropol (using the pseudonym Lewis Allan)
who was deeply disturbed by a picture he saw of a lynching. Meeropol set
the song to music with his wife, Laura, and performed it at venues in
New York City. Billy Holiday recorded the song in 1939. Information from
The Writer’s Almanac, April 20, 2019

I am known as a male;
I am known as a white male;
I am known as white male of
     Swedish and Dutch ethnicity;
I am known as a white male of
     Scandinavian, Finnish, Russian,
     English, Northern European, Indian
     (from India) ethnicity;
I am known to be out of Africa;
I am known as a Christian;
I am known as a Buddhist Christian;
I am known as a Taoist Christian;
I am known as a Hindu Christian;
I am known, along with all other humans,
     as a member of the one
     race, the human race;
I am known as a part of creation;
I am known as a child of God;
I will know as I am known.