Being as on-top-of-it as I am, I just discovered that April is National Poetry Month. Doh!
So just to keep my tardy rhythm consistent, here’s a poem I wrote – back in 2006. I dunno, it still seems appropriate.


Into the undulating sea we plunge, through the waves
of pastel siding and asphalt shingles –
where houses shade trees, more than trees shade homes.
Each quarter-acre grotto, a bourgeois shrine
to urban periphery.
Where battles are fought in trim paint and shrubbery
with labrador and sport-utility mascots.
And wind whistles through split-rails and easements
like caves exposed at low tide.
But the lighthouse only flashes
that credit is existential
and we slip beneath the lapping red tide
to our debt.

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