MEMO TO MOGod sat in His Office
a little worn out.
The Day wasn’t done
and the Night Before
cluttered His desk.
Maureen, He said, picking up
the phone: cancel
Everything!
I want to be Alone
with You.
SIR OILY
Sir Oily and his goily
Went swimming in the sea
And were eaten by a big fat slick
The same that got Moby Dick
A POEM ABOUT THE SEA
I sat on a dead tree
watching the mighty rollers
break upon the shore
And I said to myself,
“I shall write a poem about the sea!”
Whereupon wave after wave
of appropriate phrases
flooded into my brain
and drowned me.
[From MOTH BALLS, Magick River, 1994. First posted 19 February 2007]
