and taxes

Daisies of Fukushima, borrowed from the interwebz
Daisies of Fukushima, borrowed from the interwebz


the grey men called and want their money
only it’s a phish scam from India
not that it’s much different

from the taxman in DC who penned the 2,600 page tax code
(more or less, and not
the 70,000 claimed by a certain right

wing think-tank) – but voluminous nonetheless
– their money, my time –
the premise of all sovereigns

all taxes
all employers.
but it wasn’t fear

of threatened jail time
that kept me on the phone
just the knowledge that I owe

according to the System.
but anyways, beware of anyone
who calls and threatens you

with prison or such nonsense
for past-due taxes
even though tax IS the way

they got Capone
because the IRS doesn’t call
and offer advice; they mail

or just show up
to remind you
what’s inevitable



for the July Get Listed prompt in the imaginary garden with real toads, inspired by the Beatles’ Taxman

the philosophy of pockets

I steal from those before me
draping words like thin wool
around the bony shoulders of belief,
casting them aside with scalding anger,
wrapping tighter in the chill of solitude,

paraphrasing when lazy
or googling when not.
Neil deGrasse Tyson says his philosophy is to learn
more about the world than he knew yesterday
and to lessen the suffering of others.

I’ll slip that in my pocket.
Some unknown giant noted that you are a ghost
driving a meat covered skeleton
made from stardust: what do you have to be scared of?

Dr. Michelle Thaller slyly smiled:
we are dead stars
looking back up at the sky.

But I wonder:
we came into this world bathed in meconium and blood,
naked but for love (if we were lucky)
and will let slip a final sigh
with not a single pocket sewn into our skin.



at dVerse, Brian Miller returns (pops in?) from sabbatical with a 4th anniversary prompt on philosophy.


Kingsnake eating a Rattlesnake, image (c) Patrick Briggs (no infringement intended)
Kingsnake eating a Rattlesnake, image (c) Patrick Briggs


eye-level with the counter, dust
– the rain of sloughed skin – accumulates

for we are all kin
to snakes even if they eschew our kinship

for who would claim that? not the air
gritted from our fumes

nor earth, emptied of her riches
to adorn our cracked (sur)faces

– no, only we claim
separation based on skin



offered to Flash 55 Plus, in the imaginary garden with real toads, where Kerry reminds us to remember Dante y Dante


no infringement intended
no infringement intended


did you hear?
mother was right:

thou shalt not hate
was missing from the old man’s list –

so we’ll hand this
to history’s ashes.

now, that fire in two hearts
regardless of plumbing flow

can stand, altared,
though standing alone is no guarantee –

but who am I
to stand in the way

when others are pulled
to give what they have?



exactly 60 for Words Count with Mama Zen, in the imaginary garden with real toads.

Note: today, the US Supreme Court struck down laws prohibiting equal protection under the law – in this case, those against marriage equality. Justice Kennedy wrote the majority decision, the final paragraph of which will be quoted for years to come. In their dissents, Justices Scalia and especially Justice Thomas resorted to some … curious … twists of ‘logic’.

Pictures of

no infringement intended
no infringement intended

these are the pictures of hate
though I will not show them
since your hate differs from mine
as your love differs from mine.

but fear? picture
the same hue for everyone:
what flows inside
jaded skin remains red

as dusk on a hot day:
how our jagged breathing fights the air;
how our eyes scurry;
how we feel our minds narrowing

to a point, like a star imploding
under the weight of all it’s absorbed
until no longer can it support the light –
that’s the same color

beneath every skin.
so I ask you
to look at all the pictures of this:
I do not know

and you don’t know
so we don’t know
how it started
or if we can change how it ends



for Fireblossom Friday: Picture This, in the imaginary garden with real toads.

offered to dVerse Open Link Night 151, hosted by Mary

Note: yesterday, a racist terrorist murdered 9 people in a church in Charleston, South Carolina. The Confederate flag (a symbol of slavery) still waves, full staff, over the State House. A state Senator was among the victims. In the US, traditionally the flag is lowered to half-staff during times of mourning.




I halfve forgot
nothing of your touch

not your silk lips
your petal fingertips

not your bubble laugh,
the curve of your half

hip against the counter,
your subtle saunter,

half hundred books – more –
sharing the shelf with Buddha

and his Mona Lisa mouth.
peonies last only so long

dear, but you –
you’re no flower



Flash 55, (minus the plus) in memory of the G-man, and sideways to Susie’s Floral Explosion prompt, in the imaginary garden with real toads


love, hesitant, is ever caught
not by her alone, or by him
when trepid feet are what they’ve got
and brightest ardor fades to dim.

where went the sun? here, in the shade
the light will dribble out. it goes
down the path like deer from a glade
leave the meadow behind and flows

in trickles, truth drying to lies
while pulsing hearts callous to stone
and their gripped love loosens and dies
like a rung bell fading its tone

or water wrung from blackened lawn –
hesitant love, we learn, is gone



for Björn’s Bout-Rimés Sunday challenge, in the imaginary garden with real toads