drilling for a heat exchange system

If only the drill weren’t twenty-four dollars a foot;
if only the wells weren’t four at two-fifty feet each;
if only our way to get heat weren’t so fossil dependant;
if only we lived in a country where winter was sweet.

To drill the heat source will be twenty-four thousand at least;
to put up the unit another ten thousand they say;
and then there’s the needed power conversion upgrade;
they say that’s another five thousand and that ain’t hay.

So we’re looking at thirty-nine thousand and that’s just the top;
there’s also the survey for planning and windows’ heat loss;
and then all the incidentals like rebuilds and window upgrades;
it’s just what I thought: dig a hole and play dollar-in-toss.

Nothing else to do but laugh and stay
and party while it fritters all away.

Posted in lotus eaters, Poetry, serial, Sonnets | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

mirror

there are no mirrors in this house
the walls are blank
and so her spouse
her eyes reflect
like molten spheres
her dark neglect
her sudden fears
laid out in sets
like coal black tears
to come

as is her way
she turns her head
her children play
the flowers are dead
their twiggy stems
have strewn her bed
like alpha dread
when all is said
and done

there’s nothing left
to say or do
we’re all bereft
the children too
the stars have wept
the moon has set
the end is yet
to come

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Driving the deuce in winter

The deuce runs beside the river from our town to Summerstown
joyous in its smooth ups and downs and swiping curves
except in winter when the river twists angry black with storms
then the deuce grumbles salt slushed caution and risky corners
drivers dream of sweet tiger lilies or cattails blowing in ditches
snowbound river ice denies, flaccid as a sheet on a hospital bed.

Posted in Poetry, river poems, scapes, snow | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment