Saturday, September 11, 2010

I call these things poems

What’s Important

by Jim Dollar

Anything can sound good

to those who aren’t clear

about what’s important.

We can follow the

bright lights down

winding trails

into the deep woods

and wake up wishing

for a hypnotist

to tell us we’re a duck

and feed us corn

out of his hand

so we can be happy

a bit longer

and not have to worry

about what matters

like where we are going

and what we mean

by going there.

Whisper softly to us.

we pray.

Tell us you are God,

or know God,

or talked to God

once on the phone,

and have the latest word

about what we must do

to be pain free

and unburdened

by the weight

of our lives.

The Young Girls

by Jim Dollar

What became of them, do you think,

all those young girls

with dreams

and straight A’s on every

spelling test?

How many were divorced

with children,

diagnosed with breast cancer,

disposed to develop a taste for the

night life

with nothing to show for it

but a fat diamond

or two

and a regular place on the

society pages?

We passed each other notes

in homeroom

and walked away

to do what we could

with our lives

without appreciating the

importance

of good company,

or honoring the

innocence

we were glad to

leave behind.

Wolves

by Jim Dollar

Wolves are just what they are.

Hungry or not they do what wolves do.

You would never mistake a wolf for a milk cow, say

Or a pizza delivery person.

A pizza delivery person

Could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing,

But not a wolf.

A wolf would not parade around in sheep’s clothing,

Baaing and munching grass,

Wondering when to make its move.

Red Toenails

by Jim Dollar

I love bright red polished toenails,

and deep maroon ones.

I love it that a woman

would take the time to paint her toenails.

What could the purpose possibly be?

I love the senseless pursuit of beauty in all forms.

Don’t you?

We Know

by Jim Dollar

We act like we know

exactly what it would take.

This job,

that spouse,

that area of town,

this neighborhood,

this car,

these friends,

those clubs…

It is as though

life is a big house

in the country

and we are interior designers.

We are sure we can get it right,

finally,

with different furniture,

new paint,

this wall taken out

and a new bathroom

up stairs.

Fog

by Jim Dollar

If we are driving in heavy fog,

we acquiesce to the fog.

We do not dictate to the fog.

We do not drive like we want to,

fog or no fog.

We do not impose our will on the fog.

We do not say, “Damn the fog! Full speed ahead!”

Here’s one for you:

We are driving in heavy fog.

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