Honey, I Was Just Joking

So I said to the two male clerks in their mid-
twenties, who had never heard of Henny
Youngman, as I was buying a bottle of vitamins
for guys over fifty, pointing to my wife who was
standing next to me, “Take my wife, please.”
The guys roared; my wife didn’t. Having a captive
audience I knew I was on a roll so I tossed out
three more of Henny’s one-liners which any up-
standing female would label misogynistic. She
did. My wife said, “Call me Miss Ogynistic with
an emphasis on Miss.” The guys continued to
laugh as I hurried after my wife, the love of
my life, “Honey, I was just joking.” “Call me
miss,” she hissed.

Cry Baby Boys

The men have gone bonkers,
The men in power have lost their minds,
The men who run state legislatures are insane.
They are passing anti-abortion legislation,
Not because they care about zygotes, embryos and fetuses,
And not because they care about women who they
Are willing to send to jail and providers for life
or die in a hard birth
Or in a back alley butcher shop,
And not because they love Jesus with all their hearts,
Because they don’t, at least not the Jesus of the Gospels,
And, actually, they are not bonkers or insane.
They are simply what they are and are acting in
Complete accordance with who they are —
Neanderthals in suits afraid that females
Will have power over their sperm,
Will be the living embodiments of the woman
Of their worst nightmares — Lorena Bobbitt.
Well, boys, it’s time to stop grunting and thumping
Your chests because you have already emasculated yourselves.
You could be called lots of things, but I will simply
Settle for “cry baby boys,” about whom your mothers may
Have made the wrong choice.

Slow Down, Lady

She rode the bumper of his car for
a few miles of the two-lane road —
discourteous, rude — she placed

his car so close in front of her in jeop-
ardy. Maybe, in anger, hit the brakes.
There was nowhere to pull aside,

just abide and take a deep breath
while the driver drove on. She parked
right next to him in the parking lot of

the grocery store. She got out, seem-
ingly oblivious to the identity of the car
next to her instead of directly in front of

her. How could she not recognize it? He
watched her walk to the store. He wanted
to confront her, tell her what a rude driver

she was but there was something vulnerable
about her, a waifish woman in somewhat
shabby clothes. She was unkempt. She

moved fast like she drove. He watched
her move rapidly through the aisles
grabbing this and that. His anger soft-

ened to something akin to pity. What was
going on with her? Why the hurry? Why the
lack of awareness of her surroundings and

the danger that unawareness posed? He
watched her drive away and he found
himself, of all things, wishing her well,

hoping she resolved what was going on,
and that she would be more aware,
thoughtful and present. Then, in his

mind, he shouted, “Slow down, lady!”

Tethered

With all the craziness in politics,
he just wants to forget it
and go camping
but he needs cooperative weather.
Can three good days of weather
be strung together
or will he be tethered
to crazy politics
and uncooperative
Upper-Midwest weather
forever?

One Wild and Crazy Crowd

He told a newcomer to the area
that if she wanted to know what
the typical Tulip Time visitor was
like, it was someone who was
really disappointed when the
Lawrence Welk Orchestra stop-
ped appearing and that was
just a couple of years ago while
Lawrence himself left this earth
twenty-seven years ago five
days from now and one week
after the 2019 Tulip Time Fest-
ival, one of the largest festivals
in America, ended.

The Market Is Down

The market is down,
                        way
                           down,
 
but on the more cynical side,

      it is just

      momentary,

because this provides a
  great opportunity,

(perhaps initiated by)

for the ten to buy like crazy

     momentarily…

allowing the masses to breathe
   a little better,
  in their naivety,

until the 
      next time 
         the market

                    plunges
    for the benefit of

(and, perhaps, by the manipulation of)

the very few at the expense of the
                                   M

                                     A

                                       N

                                         Y.

These Things

As a child he heard these things;
as a teen he began to read these things;
as an adult he studied these things;
and now it is hard
to concentrate on these things
when he reads these things
because of the repetition of these things,
but the sad thing is that he runs the
risk of missing the new revelations in
the interpretations of these things
and he might just remain stuck in an old
way of understanding these things.
Simply, his mind wanders away
from these things
in his daily reading of these things,
so… much of the time, he stops in
the middle of reading these things
and rereads these things
to catch a new understanding and
interpretation…of these things.

The Persistence of Spring In Spite of the Weather

In spite of the lingering cold
which resists the advent of
spring’s warmth, things go on.
The Chocolate Lab continues
to get up, look out the sliding
door for the two large rabbits
who sometimes just sit by the
pond staring at the dog as if
they know the glass is holding
back the dog from the chase.
It is as if they are taunting her.
When the door is opened, the
girl tugs hard at the leash look-
ing for the rabbits now gone but
in the other direction, she sees
a baby bunny scamper back
under the wood walkway. A
robin with a piece of string in
its beak flits from branch to
branch looking for a sturdy
enough one upon which to
build the nest. The mate
supervises.