HAMLET AND OPHELIA
When we were reading for Shakespeare class,
Act 3, Scene 2, the Professor said
"Pay attention to Hamlet’s bawdy wordplay."
I was innocent.
Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
Ophelia: No, my lord!
Hamlet: I mean, my head upon your lap.
which is how I took it
but apparently, I was wrong
both in my reading of the play
and sometimes in my dating life that year
when in my Ophelia way I missed a boy's
"country matters" and
I thought nothing,
and he, another student in that class,
considered it "a fair thought
to lie between maids' legs."
Lie and lay -
a lesson from elementary school
never properly learned by some.
Katie Milburn
HAVE FAITH
My father said after putting the mirror on the wall
confident of the molly and screw and wire
but when my mother said it as I went to bat,
applied to colleges and then jobs,
there was always the presence of God.
Charles Michaels
FAMILY TRUST
It was supposed to make things easier,
Family Trust set up decades ago in a far-off
city. Since then, our previous home
and vehicles listed in the trust are long gone;
the dogs we named – and considered
family more than assets – are also gone.
And we discovered the document is flawed,
something crucial from a legal standpoint
was left out, or maybe got lost
in all our movings. The trust is beyond
my understanding. You’re gone now too.
Only your kids and I are still under
the aegis of the Family Trust. Great kids,
comfort and support in all these
legalistic hassles. And the new dog (a rescue
abandoned by a former owner)
has joined our family just days ago –
we’re working on building his trust,
and vice versa, feeling richer day by day.
Taylor Graham
SHOOT THE MOON
I never really learned to play cards.
I played War with my sister
which required no skill or strategy.
At camp one summer, a boy tried
to teach me to play Hearts
which at 13 sounded Romantic
but I never really grasped the game.
There is a play called Shoot the Moon
if you could accumulate all of the hearts
and I think you needed another Queen.
It was difficult and it hurt your opponent.
I couldn't understand Hearts.
I couldn't accumulate hearts.
I was no queen and I did not want
to hurt someone.
Six years later, in a college dorm lounge,
there was a regular weekend Hearts game.
I had forgotten how to play but my boyfriend
played all the time and he would tell me
"You have to Shoot the Moon or you never
get anywhere." He meant it in things beyond cards.
I never was able to do it. Take risks, gather hearts,
play to win, see that Moon at night, and leap.
Lily Hana Hayashi
CRANK
My neighbor has the hood of his old Mustang raised.
Crank it, he shouts to the kid behind the wheel.
We all root for the starter, and fail, as I did
by not cleaning the snake of years’ old muck
soon after it unblocked a drain I neglected,
so now it’s too stiff to crank,
which is what she’s taken to calling me lately
as I stand at the workbench of my shed
sorting screws and nails into old cans and containers,
muttering the names of friends who’ve passed
and remembering the orderliness of their fathers’ garages.
Rob Friedman
AUGUST
AUGUST
SENIORS
HALF-PRICE
the McDonalds
marquee
advertises
in August.
I never
eat there,
but today
I can’t resist:
“I, an august
senior,
will gladly
pay you Tuesday
for a hamburger
today,”
I say to the pimpled
associate behind
the counter
just to see
his unibrow
knit.
Priceless.
Paul Hostovsky
SPRING
Where we live
Winter gives way to spring reluctantly
Teases us with false retreats
Only to appear again, unbidden
To strangle tender daffodils
With icy fingers
Once spring digs her heels
Into the frigid soil, warming roots and
Waking bulbs extinguished months ago
Gardens, woods and open fields
All spring to life
The sound of bubbling springs
Thick ice no longer hides
Calls to us from just beyond the trail
We hike refreshed, spring in our steps
Despite the mud
At this point in our lives
We get to watch spring’s entry, live
We now have front row seats
To all the busy fanfare
A spectacle, no rock star can duplicate
Thoughts spring to mind
Of barbecues and picnics
Outdoor concerts, festivals
Grandkids home on spring vacation
=
But then, predictably, we realize
We’re overwhelmed
By all of this exuberant activity
Retreat, if only temporarily,
To the comfort of our easy chairs
Spring may be our favorite season
But, alas, we’re no spring chickens
Frank Kelly
CHANGE
Change – remember it in your pocket
Forgotten, loose at the bottom of your bag
Fallen piles on your dresser
Saved in glass jars or porcine ceramics
Random coins in winter coats hibernating
In the dark of your hall closet
Or excavated from beneath flipped sofa cushions
Or pitched onto the floors of new cars
Found sidewalk pennies that promised good luck
Or stuffed into coin wrappers your mom waited in line for
At the bank – muted red, blue, green and orange
I wonder about all those one day un-littered, un-glittered
Mall fountains- go prepared or walk away with un-wished wishes
Somewhere a relic of a pony ride or gumball machine
With a metal button and coin slot
No screen, no swiping- all you need is change
And that I’m not so good at
Sniff, sniff- is that a Boomer?
Ahh, but I never adapted to it well
Different schools, different teachers
Different homes, different jobs
New hardware, new software
Eye-roll inducing new business speak
Commuting, not commuting
Empty nester, stranger in the mirror
Pre-Covid, Covid, Covid Norm, Quasi-Post-Covid, Covid PTSD
Dirty secrets – landlines, hand handwritten notes and cards
Photo albums, address books, paper books - oh my
It's all good/swell/cool/groovy/excellent/awesome/dope
Especially when it's bad
Heraclitus, Plato, Dylan, Cooke - Change IS gonna come
Things revised, re-revised, invented
Re-invented, new, renewed
Things come, things go
And the people, all the people
Terri J. Guttilla
A PIECE OF CAKE
We stumbled in from our day of toil,
Having all sweated blood in tilling the soil,
Twelve sisters and brothers, we fell through the door.
Hungering vainly for some bread and some wine,
It was love and sustenance we really came for.
Yet there, on the table, was a thin slice of cake.
"Divide this cake fairly, how you all think is best.
A shareholder's meeting has devoured the rest!"
Said a note on the chair.
We argued and fought about dividing this slice,
Debating, deciding about just what was fair.
And we thoughtfully left a few crumbs for the mice.
We had enjoyed a small bite, by the end of the night,
But we forgot to consider all the rest of the cake,
And whether our portion was actually right,
As appropriate payment, for all that we make.
John Botterill
DIVING
Aqualung maestros, deep sea explorers examine
air hoses, pressure regulators and mouthpieces
plunge into Nemo’s depths, explore oceanic trenches.
Wearing Jacques Cousteau’s legacy upon our backs
we jump head-first into an icy fray, flutter kicking
scuba fins, jostling with kelp forests and rockfish.
Saltwater thrills and imminent danger draw
us into navy blue waters, seeking sunken treasure
gasping in foggy facemasks with fearless abandon.
We’d decompress, share showers, eat meals as friends
before tumbling into each other’s arms a couple, leaping
without forethought, swimming in fathomless passion.
Transferring our interest from underwater cities
to seedy dives, we toasted each other like carousing sailors
on shore leave, undisciplined…indifferent to consequences.
The heart’s an ultimate bellwether guiding choices,
nosediving uncharted territory, pursuing romantic impulses,
or plummeting into the ocean’s deep, dark, mystical bosom.
Sterling Warner
LEAD
Be in the lead,
stay in front,
go forward,
be the leader
of the pack,
the country,
whatever
group you’re part of.
Don’t be amongst the led
the ones who sink like lead
down into the abyss low as they can get.
But that’s where leaders lead us
ultimately
hanging on
a plumb line
into the depths
where they told us
we’d feast on plump plums for tea
down there
in the abyss,
but I doubt it,
there’ll be nothing there for the led.
Lynn White
SISTERS
It's your neck, slender as a swan's. Perhaps
less graceful than such a bird but no less proud.
It's your body, svelte as the spine of a book
with all of the ill-intentions of a cloud.
It's your clothes, the unnecessary slogans
peeled off to reveal your sticky underneath.
It's the smoke you emit when your top is cracked
and I feel the rim of your mouth on my teeth.
And I sip and I glug and I drink and I chug
until you are just as empty as me.
Then I put you down like a horse with no legs
and order your sisters to keep me company.
David Pearman
