A Luxury Amenity

 A Luxury Amenity

 

At Radio City, Bryant Park, and Greeley Square,
these humming thrones await the public there.
A civic gift in plastic, bright and grand,
for anyone in sudden, urgent demand.

First comes the hand before the scanner’s eye,
the red light wakes as if to verify.
Then clears its throat with bureaucratic zeal,
and starts the brisk official toilet reel.

The glossy film advances, trim and quick;
a hidden blade makes one efficient snip.
The used layer vanishes without a fuss,
as though embarrassment rode a public bus.

A fresh sleeve settles on the porcelain throne,
with all the grace of something, state‑issued, blown.
It clings the way an office rumor clings—
transparent, tense, and full of private things.

Then down you sit, convinced the coast is clear,
and find a warmth distinctly not your dear.
Not filth, not doom, not anything unsound—
just someone else, still faintly hanging round.

 

A Kindness from a Stranger

 A Kindness from a Stranger

 

You never really know who will show up in an ordinary moment and keep your day from going completely off the rails.

It may be the customer at Aldi’s who frees a shopping cart from its quarter-based prison,

the driver at an intersection who waves you through as they have briefly been appointed traffic angel,

or the stranger at the beach who saves your umbrella from becoming the fastest thing on the shoreline.

Most of the time, you do not even know their names.

They are like tiny guest stars in the sitcom of your life, appearing just long enough to save the scene and then disappearing before the credits.

Without them, the world would feel a little harsher and far less merciful.

I felt that kindness myself the other day at the end of a hike, when a faint headache started tapping at my temples like a landlord asking where the rent was. A man I had just met offered me an unopened bottle of water from his pack, and in that moment, he seemed less like a fellow hiker and more like a desert mirage with good planning skills. I have not hiked like that in two years, but you can be sure I will carry extra water next time, because apparently, I enjoy learning important lessons the hard way.

Another time, I was carrying my beach umbrella over one shoulder and my bag on the other, feeling strong and wonderfully free of pain for the first time in years. Hip surgery was behind me, and all I had to do was walk in a straight line like an adult, which, in hindsight, may have been asking a lot.

It would have been simple if I had remembered that my eyes and my feet are supposed to be on the same team. Instead, I turned to look behind me and went down so fast it felt as if the earth had been waiting all morning for its chance. One moment I was upright and victorious; the next I was introducing myself to the pavement. Thankfully, instinct arrived before panic, and I managed to protect my new hip, which at that point felt like the most expensive member of the family.

I scraped my elbow and twisted my foot, but escaped with no serious injury, which felt like a very generous final score. The strangers near the outdoor shower kept moving. Still, my sister and brother-in-law, coming up behind me, lifted me and took the weight I had been carrying, proving that family will absolutely help you, especially when you have already provided the day’s entertainment.

Family, after all, can be its own kind of rescue, steady as a railing and only slightly more likely to laugh once they know you are fine.

Chicken Scratch:Bridging the Gap A Poultry/Poetry Slam

Chicken Scratch: is Poetry, Dance, Music and just plain FUN!! 

"Why did the Chickens cross the Bridge? To get to the Poultry Slam, of course!" 
"Why do Chickens scratch dirt? Concrete is too hard on their nails" ~ Connie DeDona

Chicken Scratch is also a PSA on GM (genetically modified) food

Protect yourself; YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT!! Choose Non-GM food
There are four major GM foods: soy, corn, cottonseed, and canola. They entered our food supply about 12 years ago and are likely contributing to the deteriorating health of Americans. Without any human clinical trials or post-marketing surveillance, we can't tell which declining health statistic may be due to these foods. But we also can't afford to wait to find out. GM foods must be removed from our diet now. To learn which foods are genetically modified and how better to protect yourselves, visit:http://www.ResponsibleTechnology.org

Chicken Speak--To Be Or Not To Be

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

that is the question.

Whether tis nobler to walk

on egg shells

or rather

to boldly strut

cock fierce.

To plant one foot in the hen house

and the other

at the foxes lair

exhibiting

super Gumby

flexibility

and strength.

Or to simply roost

in the nearest Mango tree

dreaming

of Iowa corn fields

sinewy stalks

crunchy kernels

liberally sprinkled

with red lipped white grubs.

And to fertilize

with flair

that extra special egg

the one

that stands out from the rest.

The good egg

that breaks the mold

that breaks wind

with a certain HEN NA SAIS QUOI!

That one egg

that exemplifies

everything

chicken.

That one egg

that the others

defer to

when things get

scrambled.

That one egg

that flies in the face of

adversity

and comes out

smelling

like a ham.

Love in the Time of Compost

Love allows that even a clothes horse 

can have an off day
and knows when to put the blinders on.

Love bows at the sacrificial altar
of burnt beyond recognition
with a branded tongue.


Love relaxes with the Kama Sutra
inhaling a strawberry soufflé
sensually whipped.


Love lets you have first dibs
on the massage chair
kneading and pummeling your
way to RELIEF---
then hands you a post hole digger
to plant a 3' tree.

High Jumper

Muse jettisoned from

inter-cranial cockpit

absent without leave.