Peppercorns
by Gary Hardaway
Free Will!
The will is free.
Everything else is extra.
Food and fashion- extra.
Hearth and house- extra.
Spouse and offspring- extra.
If all the extras get to be too much,
cut back.
Too much, still?
Cut back again.
If you cut and cut
and it's still too much,
opt out.
Remember- the will is always free.
Table for One, Easter Morning
Time expunges sex
and leaves you only gender.
Distinguishing organs
shrink and dry,
identifiable
though vestigial.
Fertile bodies eye
the space you occupy,
impatient for disappearance.
Asocial Drinker
To drink alone is never fun.
It just exacerbates “alone”
and leaves the wits
in cabernet stains
on the off-white carpet.
True Colors
The official hues of Texas
are red, white and blue,
like the lone star flag.
How very hopeful and French.
The true hues of Texas, though
run the full range of one-
from aged bone beige
to deep shit brown.
The View from Mt. Olympus
Goes on Forever
I am diseased
like everyone doing time-
all of us sentenced
to time and dying.
The timeless no doubt
find us all amusing
with our morning jogs
and antioxidants
our memorial parks
and term life policies
spiced with double indemnity
against an accidental death.
In “Drinker” I like... Well the whole thing. In “True Colors” it’s How very hopeful and French. That’s real good. These are thoughtful.
Thanks, Steve. I appreciate your reading these.
"Time expunges sex
and leaves you only gender."
Cruel but true. Little nuggets of ideas. French Texas!*
Thank you very much, John.
these amazing poems are an existential menage-de-cinque.
i used the french reference based on your french reference. plus the poems appear to be f-----g each other (both ways).
*****
I like the last best. It is wise and true. The gods grin.
Thank you, Susan. Thank you very much.
Thanks, Joani. I've always envied gods' caprice and relative freedom. Damn their eyes.
I like Asocial Drinker!
If all the extras get to be too much,
cut back.
Too much, still?
Cut back again.
If you cut and cut
and it's still too much,
opt out
Hard truth. Poetry as scream.
* to the group.
Thank you, Kenton.
Bill, I'd like some soft truths for a change of pace. Perhaps they'll sneak in some soft October night. Thanks for reading these.