Why is there

A preponderance

Of BMW’s, Jaguars & Mercedes

(As well as Porsches and Ferraris)

In this town?

What were they thinking

Putting a Coffee Bean

So close to a Starbuck’s?

Why are there only

Five homeless people

In this town?

The former mayor’s restaurant–

The Village Pantry

Has taken months to open

And I hear it’s not very good–

How could that be?

The Palisades has more hair

And nail salons (13 at last count)

Than any other town, per capita

In California–

Did you know that?

There’s really only one

Excellent restaurant

In this whole town of 30K people

(Il Carpaccio)–how could that be?

Almost every morning

Between 7:30 and 8, consistently

The fire engines from Station 69

Roar west on Sunset, sirens blaring

Is this a coincidence?

It is said Palisades AA and Alanon

Are the best in the country–

What does this tell you

About the inhabitants?

What’s that guy doing

Over by those chairs?

Will Barry be OK

With his African hat on?

Is that dog there

With a red leash

On the corner, part coyote?

Why was that couple

Leaving Starbucks

Talking about BMW’s?

Will I see the big blimp, ever

Unless there’s a golf tournament?

Will Karla be on time

For the hike?

I wonder if it will be

An early spring for flowers

With all this rain…

Why do people

Always ask me how

To spell Palisades–

Is it that hard?

Seagulls circle

Out the window

In the ritual

Of their search

Tires screech

In remaining rain

On pavement perilous

To the hurried–

Unaware of the power

Of their machines

Or too prideful

Of it;

The leaves shiver

In small circles

Their dance betweens storms

Frantic witnesses to all–

Shaking water off

In droplets

To those more needy, below

People in rain coats

Dogs on walks

Do they notice–

Don’t they know

That life can change

For the better or worse

In a cloudburst

Or a spell

Of unexpected sun?

The invisible seeds surrender

Their husks;

A halting moment

When there is nothing

At the window

Not a threat

Or a promise.

Having a cup

Of extra-fancy Darjeeling tea

In the sunshine

Outside at Peet’s

On Montana

Someone says “No one said

It’d be easy…”

For fun

I say back “and no one said

It would be fair”

The guy replies ”what is, is…”

And I answer back

In the verbal rally

“It is what it is…”

His response–”it depends

On what you mean by is…”

Political nuances

And personalities aside

I didn’t have much to say

Beyond that

So I just agreed

And smiled.

Fastidious tea leaves

In the bottom

Of a cup, trying to form

A face, but failing–

It reminds me of something

You said once

But never finished

That time in ’01 in New York

What we saw along the Hudson

In the short-lived skyline

Or was it at the museum

The room they’d roped off

For no reason, with

The big, red and blue canvasses

Not ready for viewing, I guess…

The tea leaves

Are like a painting

In the cup

Smaller, of course

But no less resonant

If only you could gather

What the painter meant

With his strokes, if only

You could read

The scattered, flattened

Bits of leaf

Like an old, Chinese

Tea drinker would.

There’s a broken watch

In my kitchen drawer

It quit on March 23d

Year undetermined

At a quarter to nine

I never intended to wear it

Or make much of its services;

Threw it in that drawer

As an afterthought

     “Useless…”

     “Who would give a gift like that?”

     “What a waste of time

     To know the time…”

     “A dull obligation…”

There are no reasons

To look back and see why–engaging

In the fallibility of memory

And who, exactly, gave it;

I didn’t have the courage

To throw the watch away

Or give it to someone else

Who might use it

So it died a quiet

Unwitnessed death–

Who cares about time

Anyway? Evidently

I do.

There are clear reminders–

I could tell you

But you still

Might not see them–

     Stop signs at which

     To fully stop (as suggested)

     Yellow lights for slowing down (and not

     Speeding up)

Those orange cones

In the street to avoid

But–to you–they look like

Megaphones to pick up

And bark something through

Or maybe, to slalom amongst–

These are reminders

Put there to keep you safe

Or moving at

A respectable pace

I could remind you

I’ve done it before

But you’ve taken no notice.

Girls must offer themselves

To you like daffodils or roses;

So many for the picking–

And you probably just

Put them in vases

On some shelf

Sad–that they are not

The right ones–sadder still

That they may be

And you wouldn’t know it

Idle smiles and “well, Hello’s”

Those facile, insincere notes

Casual stay-overs

“Would you like milk

Or honey or sugar with yours?”

I don’t know you

But it’s apparent

That intimacy and the quick touch

Are strong suits

Your leather clothes and iron cross

Accoutrements

Of a morning Romeo

But there’s always the chance

I’ve got it all wrong

And you’re a family man.

There’s no telling

How the morning will go–

Decaf in the “regular” dispenser

And “regular” in the decaf (true story)

The good people I know

Lining up, trying to figure it out

I haven’t seen Andrew

Since August

And there he is–talking

About getting stuck in tule fog

For months on end as a kid

In Visalia, and that

Setting the tone;

Friday, there was rain

But now it’s sunny

And it’s supposed

To rain again on Sunday…

In between the weather

The purple, black and pink pigeons

Are doing their “funky chicken” strut

Out on the deck at Gladstone’s Restaurant;

Tap-dancing in and out

Looking for scraps–

There’s no telling

If they’ll find them

But I’m sure some

Will luck out, seems

Darwin was right–the strong

And the clever and the capable survive

Make it into History books

And not into fossils–

The girl I know

Who said she would

Didn’t show up–guess

That means evolution

Is progressing

In ways That I

Have never fully

Understood.

Ray thinks

We’ll never get paid

For the job those guys did

Or are going to do–financing

The syringe project

And that

In the end

We may have to sue–

“But we had a contract”

I say–”signed paperwork…”

“That doesn’t matter

Any more,” Ray says

“Nobody adheres to anything

After three years

And it’s already been

Four…”