Punacious
I’m not pugnacious
But pun tenacious
I don’t write like Pruitt
But thrive on fruit
This might seem cuit
Not seeming audacious
Gracious, oh my
Outrageous with sight
Cry the beloved
Love the unloved
Cover the craven
Crave the coven
Organize the crowdfunding
Crowd the organizers
Spaced out on whiskey
Whisked out to space
Wings spread as Aeschylus
Vacuumed by the universe
Gravity inhaling
Songsinging exhaling
Tripping the harpsichord
Enrapped with rhapsichord
Rapturing living but afraid of dying
Hoping life long
Longing to belong.

Theatre Directory
Aladdin
Is Beautiful ,
The Carole King Musical
Bernhardt/Hamlet
Comes From Away
While a Frozen
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Proceeds Head Over Heels
Wearing Kinky Boots
To harass Mean Girls,
Not My Fair Lady.
Donna Summer precedes
The Band’s Visit
Not eaten by The Lion King
While Phantom of the Opera
Doesn’t shield
The Play That Goes Wrong.
Waitress isn’t Wicked
Yet
Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin
Drinks after at
Smokey Joe’s Cafe

McMillan Pier
I peered along McMillan Pier
Provincetown’s launch
To ferry where
To Boston travels tourists dear
Summered done it does appear
Enjoyed the sand, enjoyed the bay
Rode challenging
Ocean waves
Capped cresting and revolving
Canoes there too
Paddle boards galore, colored red, some blue, some orange to adore.
Standing high on top, legs spread balancing wide
All to provide longer and longer
Bouncing higher and highest
Anticipated with joy
Such a celestial ride.
Accelerated by wind
Ride up up and a way
The silvery waves
Sun piercing the crests
Riders resisting cardiac arrests.
When the sun hangs low
Setting its day
The waves calm down
As if to say
It’s time to stop
Go home to digest
A meal to ingest
Perhaps kale and anchovies
Then oysters and clams,
Shrimp and octopus
Resist a sour puss,
Branzino rare is delicacy too
Along with sweet potatoes
And asparagus green
Dipped in white sauce, serene.
It was fun to remember McMillan Pier
It’s orange spotted butterfly
Flying the wind
It’s log supports attaching
White metal rails
Reflect the sun scanning
Across black waters below fanning
Boats and crafts shifting, anchored
securely
Captivatingly scenic
McMillan Pier appears in my mind
THE SUN SETS.

License Plates
1GR 325 adds to 11
HRJ 5527 adds to 21
3560 TH adds to 14
JJZ-7078 adds to 22
6YS 844 adds to 16
1GW469 adds to 19
148HA7 adds to 20
60RC09 adds to 15
Why add numbers all
Pure fun or simply folly?
What does all that mean?
Identification counts
On speeding faults
Faults policed
Vehicles towed
Pounded in place
Disappointed face
Hard to erase
Or in court
Facing truth and consequence
Hoping to erase
Avoiding disgrace
Waiting in line and
Suffering trepidation.
From State to State
Colors created
To distinguish those fated
Or identify well travelled
Across the line
Fueled by Mobile or Exxon
Unless electrical connect
Economy selected.
 

Tonight the moon
Tonight the moon
A crescent is prescient
Alone in the sky
Brightens it
Accompanied by a distant star
Maybe a planet
I don’t dare describe
Because I just don’t know
My astronomical skills
I guess show.
A bird chirps regularly
No it’s really a cricket
Going ik ik ik ik ik ik ik ik
Again again again again again
Calling some friend, mate or companion or lover
Without end.
Is it lonely. I hear no response
Only quiet of the night.
It stopped. Tired? Found a friend?
Found a bite?
No, continues its biz, biz, biz
I hear the refrigerator
inside buzz
Freezing the cubes
Electric their forming
In trays extracted in morning.
The cricket stopped.
Time to sleep
As I return to sleep to morn.
Wrong.
It’s chirp ensues what as nature pursues
The wilds demand sleeplessness
The moon observes
Crescent now
Anticipating fullness
As the month proceeds
To another moon
No the same shaped as the earth
Turned.
Black clouds turned white
Striped by that moon
Enlight.
 

Hunger
Waiting for dinner
Hunger anticipating
The clams and pasta, or bouillabaisse
Served by smiling waitresses
Following their beach day sand drenched wanders
Subtle waves toeing each sand fro
Searching the menus deciding
Yes that, not this, swordfish but rare,
Or flounder good fare, salmon with desire, but I had that prior. Anchovies their fate over kale is just grate.
Will steak tonight rate?
With potatoes and bean, doesn’t sound mean, but I’ll convene that in future serene restaurant provene.
Kilim pie for dessert did not desert our desires
Meal ending complete
Complete with that sweet.

Truro Vineyard
Basking at the Truro vineyard
Rows and rows of grape vines growing
Black-eyed Susans
In great clumps glowing
Grey brown cask
On white structure full showing
The sun upon its barn beyond
Clapboard surface glowing
On the bushes grape clusters grasping strong vines
Growing from centuried roots
Gnarled, curving, cut and manicured, doubled from root
Horizontally spread just to boot
Along trellises horizontal
Hosed in alignment repose even when wet
Hundreds of yards
Row upon row
Row upon row
Some double rooted to root for
Others gnarled low
As they flow downhill and uphill
Shadows cast from the sun
The grapes all grow low
Bush crowns rising high
Not skimming the sky
As the pines pine for air
The oaks so do too
None too few.
The vineyards row on
Row on, they row on
Down hills and up hills
Posts supporting their cables
As long as they cable able.
In some clusters grapes ripen
At different colors together
Racially in love.
The grass is bright green
Mowed flat and serene.
The sun, a ball,
Boasts its shining to all
Petal and leaf, gnarled trunks all
Nurturing life and great color
God’s gift to our order.
The sky is blue too,
But I am far from that feeling,
For life here is great
Everything’s appealing.
The Truro Vineyards abound with delight. Having paced these great rows
My heart feels so bright
It’s right.
Now to return, row after row
It’s time alas, alas to go.

Poem by EPR
Can I really write a poem
Do the words need to roam
Will my mouth actually foam
Will I be silver-tongued like chrome
Only to moan the varieties of a chromosome
Yet alive to the atmosphere
The sun shining its glowing sphere
Rays threading the stratosphere
Where will to me appear
The brightest globe enhancing my career
With love for long life achieving and marriage with M enriched year after year.
Watercolors paint my way, the vibgyor of colors opportunity the way the watery brush swimming its way along the brittled papery path for drying this very day. Such are the vagaries to celebrate this day.

I Went to Duane- Reade
I went to Duane-Reade
Pharmacy prescription in need
Escalators up indeed
Tread to counter
For prescription prescribed
To sleep better at night
Not needed for nap in afternoon light.
So many items to buy
Yet averting my eye
The pharmacist hands me
Forty-five dollars pass buy.
There’s lots of food to be had
Sandwiches, cookies, fresh fruit
Not bad. Goodies and baddies
All things for the hadies.
The store is so clean
A consumer’s dream
Many people abound
Yet silent the sound.
Escalator descends
Aluminum blades engaged connected
Clasping each other
Tethered to cable.
Enhancing them to ascend
Or to descend
The direction you are able.
To proceed trip ending
Pills or morsels
Waiting their time
To be used
Or abused
Or juxtaposed together.
I went to Duane-Reade
Amply
Until
When D-R awaits my
At space“Reserved for Fuel Efficient
Vehicles”
Prius qualifying
Within white lined space,
One per side.
This followed a trip to Staples
PC adjusted to staple perfection
Stapelized.

Purcell
We eat and garbage dispose
Into white plastic bag for repose
Washed both hands with
Purcell soft white cream
Hands cleansed so clean
I could scream.
After churning garbage in white bag
Into chute of aluminum does go
whisked far below
Probably hitting with blow
Unless cushioned by others below.
Breakfast was eaten
Light scrambled eggs well beaten
Toast toasted well darkened for eaten
Cream cheese thickly spread
Covered with peach jam well had
Fulfills hunger
Desired while bed.
Cappuccino coffee
Thickly creamed
I thought of while dreamed
But reality is better
And much hotter too
Completing the cup much too soon.
Now to relax after breakfast.
Reading the New York Times
Not too fast.
Its book review section compelling
Selecting future books while in dwelling
With time to read availing.
Today we come close
“Mother of the Maid,” adventure chose.
Anxious to see it
Theme familiar repeated
Just fired for opportunity
In attendance.
It’s evening to travel to BAM
Bus B80 as usual not tram.
We’ll get there on time
To see all of it fine
Relaxing thereafter with dinner
Then reading
Then bed
Then sleep
Then dream
Then sunrise
Then life again.

It’s Raining No Sun 
It’s raining
No sun
Ain’t fun
The plants they are joyful
Petals and buds
Extending outwards
Inhaling the water to thrive
To continue alive
Arriving toward fullness
Their leaves bending and whirling
Roots grabbing their soils
Swallowing their life giving tentacles
As deep as they can grow
Past rocks blocking them so
Going around extends
Their travels to and fro.
Rooted firmly, grounded fully
Sun absent,
Cooling rain
Drains sucking water
To sea free.
The clouds cover
Vast Skies lacking blue
True to to their purpose
Obscuring our view
Of the beyond.
The beyond is boundless
Only stars grasp that known
Planets as partners
Enhance that artfulness
Creation sown
Is prone to atone
When rain knowing
No sun
Reigns down.

I Dreamt That We Wired The Wiry West With Cable
I dreamt that we
Wired the wiry west with cable
And were able to talk to the world we knew
Not knowing the world of the future
Where those whom we knew where few
But where natives there lived
Living in peace and in war.
Far from our vision
As far as we were aware.
The land it was wild
Yet opportunity offered
For those who proffered forward
With shovel and axe
With grain to farm and relax
With arms to plant seed
And arms to hunt feed.
Many are the trees, much to trim
To cut down at our whim
To create poles that transmit wire
So that we could aspire
To build our towns and our cities
With spires to alight on the planes and the
lakes
Yes, build cities.
Beard leading chin
They shinned up those wood poles
Wood nails, steel nails machined
In steel mills
Pittsburgh’s goal through coal
To toil the soil with poles rising high.
Everything’s up to date in Kansas City
They built a building high as it should go
Only many years later
They built them even higher
Showing where the future heights will go!
From Chicago see New York
Or simply dream it so!
With cable you could talk,
Speak a bit or squawk,
And even make a point thought swell.
The wiry trees fell comfort being wired
Steel telephone poles followed
Metallic to the sun
For those who toiled
To build that dream
It would seem a scream
Would never suffice.
The cable was their able.
As the wired the wiry West
Cherishing as fable
Their table of their dream.

It’s Time To Dispose Of Old Magazines and Books 
It’s time to dispose of old magazines and books.
The coffee table though stable
With legs aluminum spread able
Support all, none fall.
Yet those publications old
Read to the fold
Text forgotten, essence rethought,
Not to be bought again.
Heavy they rest
Piled at best
Legs aluminum
Three quarter inch topped
Resist the onslaught
Of weight best.
Some magazines old go first.
Into the trash with burst.
Others are valued for contents enduring
Assuring rereading and rediscovery pursuing.
Some are a series, dated week or month clearly.
Subject determines possession continued dearly.
Covers contribute to some to be held
Pictorial image valued peerlessly.
Each magazine is light
Despite throwing light on the matter
Yet disposing them fearlessly
Not carelessly but carefully
Is important to propriety.
The new ones come soon.
Just opportune
To consume time even at noon.
Night beings delight
Reading to sleep
Contents fully to keep
Enhancing dreams
Until the morrow
When it’s time to dispose
Of magazines and books read
Or indeed
Distribute them to those in need.
Which is better.

Teddys and a few others
Abetted
Bobbed
Coughed
Collaborated
Contemplated
Copulated
Cornered
Dotted
Ended
Enraptured
Fainted
Germinated
Hallucinated
Hibernated
Inebriated
Interrogated
Justiculated
Laughed
Matriculated
Opinionated
Procrastinated
Quantated
Reticulated
Surrogated
Triangulated
Undulated
Variegated
Wounded
X-Rated
Zapped

The Gym
Working out in the gym
Can be grim
Flexing the legs
Is the dregs
Down on the mat lying flat
Then sit-ups galore
Up to the floor and
Down for even more.
Many and many
Until funny their not
Exhausted you are
At core right not sore.
The legs they do flay
Until your sore a-baits.
Not quite at play
Which way they convey.
Straight out far out
Tucked in or bent
No gout to fret about.
Then the running machine does churn
As you yearn to complete
Far from defeat
Feet winning the race
Speeding the pace
Sweating the face
Heaving the chest
To make exercise best.
Or is stopping best?

The Moon Is Not Quite Half
The moon is not quite half
Dulled by a cloud
Making it deep yellow
At edge lighter
Less yellow but blacker
It’s depths and it’s shadows quite vividly show
Craters that matter
An matter that creators
Thought relatively deepen
It’s furrowed pattern.
It rays little
Settled in its blackened womb
The sky grey black
Not a star to attract.
What kind of night this
Do thistles waver in a wind
Do birds nestle with their kin
Do planes throttle the clouds
Disturbing their drifting sleep
Of rain grouped and bunched
Hunched over the thirsty earth
Waiting for the drench
That makes hills and mountains lurch.
Calendar reads that moon grows narrower or wider.
It’s just the second of October
So I assume as an observer
It grows bolder and bolder
Fulfilling its roundest
Expectations.
The moon is not quite half.
It’s on its path.

Our Dad? Oh, He Walked the Moon
It was long ago
That Neil A. Armstrong
Arms strong walked the moon
Astronaut traveling at speed
Unequaled
“Our Dad? Oh, He Walked the Moon,”
Reported sons Mark and Rick
In New York Times
October 2. 2018 on Page D3.
“Their mother, Janet Armstrong
Taught synchronized swimming.
Neil died in 2012
Items three thousand they’ll auction
His items belonged.
From Apollo 11 lunar lander
Set down on July 20, 1969.
“They could have donated everything to a museum or university,
But then items might have sat in boxes.
In an auction,
Each item is researched
So that buyers know what they are buying. Photographs of every item will remain online.
That means item’s history is preserved
For anyone to see and for research later on,” Mark said.
“Neil Armstrong’s first space mission Gemini 8, almost ended in disaster. It was the first time American astronauts successfully docked with another spacecraft in orbit. But one of the thrusters aboard Gemini 8 malfunctioned, and the spacecraft spun faster and faster.
With the astronauts on the verge of losing consciousness, he shut off the thrusters and slowed the spin with the backup system,
Only years later did Rock and Mark learn how close their father was to dying that day”

Kings and Other Ings
Acting
Annealing
Being
Bearing
Ceiling
Dealing
Eating
Excoriating
Excruciating
Feeling
Going
Healing
Hooraying
Hoping
Icing
Idling
Inking
Inkling
Irving
Jeering
Kindling
King
Kvelling
Leering
Masturbating
Maturing
Mooning
Moving
Opening
Orating
Peering
Pondering
Queering
Rearing
Sealing
Searing
Sinking
Sneaking
Tearing
Usurping
Veering
Wandering
Weeping
Wondering
X-rating
Yellowstoneing
Zoroastorating

I dreamt of a complicated drive to Toulouse
I dreamt of a complicated drive to Toulouse
To consummate a real estate deal not to lose.
I drove at dawn arriving at day
The sight a dense one to my visual dismay.
It was filled with rubble
A nightmare bubble
I knew that my work
Would be a lot of trouble.
The owner bargained and I responded with alacrity
Knowing the importance of decisive felicity
In negotiation of capital requiring profitability.
Is my fortune in jeopardy or merely
Less
That would be a mess unless
I thought quickly
Which in my state of mind
Could be optimistic
Then I recovered composure
Assurance resumed
Presumed the possible
To negotiate profitable.
The deal could evolve
Into great opportunity
An housing estate, theatre maybe,
Or Olmsteadian landscape
To urban eternity.
Let’s hope for the latter
Which would matter
For urban revival
Ecstatic survival
Enjoying the time
Devouring the glory
Of flowering territory
Rolling hills, flowing pond
Swirling fronds which respond
To winds blowing swift
And a stream
Seeking refuge toward oceans far beyond.
I did not lose the road to Toulouse.

I Dreamed of A Great Red Billed Platybus Stuff 
I dreamed of a great red-billed platybus stuff that walked on the turf not the surf. It was tall and waddled from a post-modern house where it tottered. Strange, but it mattered.
I don’t what caused such a dream. But to dream it surpassed other dreams.
It was vibrant and joyful
The sky behind both bright and it was blue.
Truly woke from my sleep.
I wondered where I was.
My eyes did roam
Only surprised to see the home.
I want to return to my sleep
Not my soul to keep
But the solution
To imaginative illusions
That supercede delusions
Preclusions
To future dreams
Of bird and herds
Of unknown species
That pierce the atmosphere
And enhance my stratosphere.
Such a flight of fancy
In which Aeschylus
Might delight

I Waited Then Was Examined By Dr. Edward Barnes
I wait to see
Dr. Edward Barnes
Not barnstorming
Into his office
Patiently waiting
Heart beating rapidly
Forwarding trepingly.
In his office photograph son
Football player on the run.
He’ll check my heart
And other parts
The arthritic leg
Cream laden avoiding pain
To aim at solace
If not solitude.
Examination thorough
Proficient in care
Blood pressure arm band
Not The Boys In The Band
Gratitude for his care
I do not dare
Search another
But prepare for
A future checkup or catchup.
Comprehensive records he keeps
Photos of graduated children
On shelf treasured
Steeped in notes he does reap
Carefully stored
Computer reserved.
To reinforce the next visit
My soul he does keep.

I Dreamed That Frances Woke Me
I dreamed that Frances woke me
Claiming eight forty-six.
I knew it wasn’t a trix.
She was right on
Now time for the
Alondranate pill to feel
As I should with it
But need to check up prescription
To remember
What it’s depiction
For health of my heart
Or maybe my mind
Which I don’t mind
A reasonable find.
Shower before breakfast
Then break nightly fast
Fast
First with an orange.
Cereal next
Then coffee swirled
And twirled in cream
To drink and suck the succulent stream.
Next scan The Washington Post
Because that’s where we are
Far from Brooklyn
But with Washington family
Marian, Adam, Frances, and
Robbie so skittish.
Now for day in Washington.
A monument occasion.
After Frances happily
Woke me.

Reflection In The Glass At Night And Then After
The reflection in the glass at night
Derived from one lamp
At light
Our houses crosses the land
East full sight
The lamp Shines the ceiling
It’s planks delight
Broad black shadow
Reduces all that one
Might see.
My I-Phoned face l
Reflects when I look out
The eastern panes.
Looking west through the house
Forty-eight feet long
I see easily book shelves
Books edged white
Rainbow colored too.
A cushion shows orange
Aluminum armchairs
Glisten too
From that one lamp
Shining bright
Down to cork floor at night.
I awoke due to thirst
Perrier and orange burst
Satiated that short thirst.
Now to return
Breathing with ease
Machined with a breeze
Dreaming some dream
Seeming to sleep
Resting in comfort
Temperature blanketed
Quilt doesn’t wilt
But covers me with heft.
Darkness pervades.
Sleep invades
Waiting dawn’s break.
Hoping for sun
Seeking Octoberfest’s
Fun
And company of guests
Ann, Herb, James and Ben
Martha’s feast for us all
With Herb’s pastries
Who wakes first to pursue
Those goodies we consume
After breakfast
Onward bagels, onward lux,
Fried eggs flowing too
Coffee and cappuccino
Further pursue..
Then more partying
At Octoberfest
Never wanting it to end
Then more oysters and lobster
Not to fend off.
Departing Wellfleet is sad
But returning in Spring to be had.
Its been nice, it’s been nice
Even without Washington in our side.

We can take the 9:20 Shuttle

Or walk if ridding makes one shudder.

Bus riding Is easier

it keeps the bus driver busier

I won’t make a fussier

Or cuss at any lesser

On my way to Physical Therapy

Which is more fun than Mental Therapy, but remote from apathy.

It’s cold out. I’ll be bold going out,

Scarfed in black wool.

I have arrived at PT with Martha.

She will be reading Burnt Shado

While I therapize.

First I step across a broad 3” +/- device

One foot forward and back

Then the next foot forward and back

Oy-Vey!

Next walking forward and then back

Twenty times and twenty times again.

sitting up and down on a chair

Twenty times and then twenty times again

As time marches on.

Finally lying on a table

As each leg is stretched upwards and

Downwards.

Now it is done.

Gone this son

Home, Done in!

Coriolanus the virus

Sustains us in fear

Causing a Shakespearean Tempest

That does appears Macbethian

Not to exempt us.

It’s not As You Like It

Fraught with ardent despair,

Measure for Measure,

It’s March

No longer A Winter’s Tale

Though we Lear

Living in a Hamlet

As do Romeo and Juliet,

Hoping that All’s Well That Ends Well.

Finding this weather,

No Comedy of Errors

Hoping it won’t last

Through the Twelfth Night.

What about Henry the Fourth

In two parts as this night parts?

Havanese Walking.

It is difficult to see

Havanese when walking in the dark

Because they are small with tightly curled fur

Black as coal

Except Howie has white paws,

While Bernie’s paws are black.

Nonetheless, Sabine and Amy provide them red leashes

And they tread lightly

Seeking a path

To eliminate nightly.

Their daily and nightly walks

Are spritely.

The street lights light their way.

They don’t weigh much.

Back home on the couch

Bernie resists being lifted and hugged

But he is smug and licks my face when he is hugged.

Howie responds similarly with alacrity.

Then both revert to their round beds to

Sleep having previously been fed dog food and people water.

In the night Havanese are Black Knights

Sans swords to produce fright.

With lights out

They are not to be seen.

Gentle, quiet and loving

They snore not...maybe quiet whimper.

Good night Knights!

TREES BLOW IN THE WIND

Trees blow in the wind

Winding their trunks

Swirling their branches

As a ballet dancer twisting and turning

But roots too buried

To permit an horizontally spread-legged leap toward the sun.

Though some leaves are blown to the wind

Others like The Lady In The Lake

Go for a swim

Resting on the waves

Gathering for long and drying rest at the sandy shore

Matching the sand

On any island.

There are oaks and maples

Cypress

Egrets and eaglets well nested

Or egrets long leggeded

Tails raised as they feed in the water

Insects and bugs and other thugs.

Where are the birds?

It is warm

But the cold doesn’t bother them

As they swarm.

It is sunny outside

Yet the sky remains grey.

Martha and I will walk outside

Risk prey to the Coronavirus

Which we pray eludes us.

But cappochino first.

Salad ad cheese for lunch.

Pasta for dinner

After

Watching Barber of Saville

Which should be civil.

Martha Play’s Bach’s INVENTIO 13 On The Harpsichord

While I sit on our

Purple woven couch

Martha plays Inventio 13

By Bach.

It’s careful staccato

Fills our living room

With relaxing vibration

Surpassing in ecstasy

The roaring sounds outside

From trucks and autos on

The BQE.

Better than a high played “E”.

Now the piece is completed

And we are both h at peace.

Too short a piece for me.

Too short a peace,

Yet looking forward to lunch

having a piece meal

LINT

The lint from the washing machine’s dryer

Is thrown into the wastebasket.

But what if the lint

Were lent to weavers

How many smocks or socks or frocks or jocks could extend their lives,

Now discarded.

The lint retainer sleeps on the silken grasper slid into its plastic lover

And welcomes it

Drying as the washed clothing now dries

To be removed

Folded or hung on hangers

Lint free.

Now the doors to

The washing machine and its dryer are closed to sleep

Until aroused another night

To do its job

Spinning like a Whirling Dervish

All fabrics inside

Gliding

As a ballet dancer

Both legs

horizontal

Then turned frontal

Held by her partner

Soaring as a bird.

Lint has found romance

DUCK DINNER

And “BRAVE COMPANIONS”

By David McCullough After

Duck dinner

Is a winner

Floated in from the grocery store

Whole Foods sold its parts sliced.

Tortilla was the duck wrap

No wings to flap.

Hot source and sour cream

Though not sour was mellow.

The round metal brown trivet

Separated

Hot black large frying pan

From frying maple table.

Rotating pepper mill and salt cup

Did their jobs.

Negroamara Rosata wine,

Bottle almost empty

Massaged Martha and my throats

A wine for which we votes.

Estate bottled by AZ agr. Rubino Luigi

Rose Wine 2018

Sustainable Agricultural Grower

New York City, NY 10036

Imported by SoulAir

Now to sit an relax.

THE CUPPED WHALE

A whale of a story made famous

by Herman Melville in his novel,

MOBY DICK

I have a large Cappucino cup

With a large whale,

Accompanied by its two baby whales.

Martha and I had twins as well

But not in a swell that a whale speeds in.

Now I quote about whales

From a source that eludes me

As I spout my discourse.

“DESCRIPTION

A nursing blue whale mother

produces over 40 gallons (200 liters) of milk a day.

The milk contains 35-50% milk fat

and allows one calf to gain weight at a rate of 10 pounds per hour or over 250 pounds (113kg) a day.

At six months and at an average length of 52 ft. (16m) the calf is weaned.

There are records of individuals over 100 feet (30.5 m) long,

But 70-90 ft. Is probably average.

An average weight for an adult is 200,000 to 300,000 pounds (100 to 150 Tons).

Blue whales are an overacie blue-grey color, mottled with light grey.

Cold water diatoms adhere to their skin and sometimes give their bellies a yellowish tinge, giving Blue Whales it’s nickname “Sulfur Bottom.”

Blue Whales are long and streamlined.

Their dorsal fins are extremely small,

And their pectoral flippers are long and thin.

Blue Whales are roqual whales, a family of baleen whales, a family with pleated throat grooves when the animal takes in water while feeding.

In Blue Whales 55-68 throat grooves extend from the throat to the navel.

Blue Whale Baleen is black with over 800 plates.

RANGE/HABITAT

Blue Whales have been found in every ocean of the world. Blue Whales swim either individually or in small groups.

Pairs are very commonly seen.

Approximately 2,000 whales live off The California coast and migrate to Mexico and Costa RIco.

MATING/ BREEDING

Females give birth to calves every three years. They remain pregnant for about one year before giving birth.

When born, The Blue Whale calf is about 23 feet (17m) long and weighs 5,000 to 6,000 pounds (2.267 -2.72 kg.)

A nursing Blue Whale mother produces over 50 gallons (200 liters) of milk a day.

The milk contains 35% to 50% milk fat and allows the calf to gain up to 10 pounds an hour or over 250 pounds (113kg) per day.

At six months of age, on an average, and at an average length of 52ft. (16m) the calf is weaned.

The Blue Whale reaches sexual maturity at around 10 years of age.

BEHAVIOR

The favorite food of these giants is krill, or shrimp-like euphausids that are up to three inches long.

Blue Whales must eat up to four tons of krill a day during the feeding season.

They concentrate on feeding during the polar summers permanently around The Channel Islands, Monterey Bay and The Farallon Islands/Cordell Bank.

They migrate to the warmer waters in Mexico and Costa Rico.

STATUS

The Blue Whale was too swift and powerful for the 19th Century whalers to hunt.

But with the arrival of harpoon cannons,

They became a much sought after species for their large amounts of blubber.

The killing matched a peak in 1931 when 29,649 Blue Whales were taken.

By 1966, whales were so scarce that

The International Whaling Commission declared them protected throughout the world.”

PORCELAIN

The porcelain white handle on our second left drawer

In our living room alcove needed restore.

So I took out my glue can

With rigid flat brush, as I can

And rubbed the silver screw all around. The glue swallowed the screw, quite gullible.

It hardened on just a little bit

And I screwed it in to fit.

Then I used scotch tape to fasten its top clear to the drawer,

Wiping away residue with wet Kleenex

From its dark walnut surface followed.

It will set overnight as it sleeps

Comfortably screwed well for keeps.

The screw, not long enough to reach the other side

remains secure, effective.

With pride, comfortably screwed,

Reinstallation is complete,

Its porcelain, sustained to keep.

When pulled open

It is trained to serve its hand held

Pullman purpose.

REMOTE PRACTICE ON MARTHA’S HARPSICHORD

Because of this Coronovirus

Martha practices remotely on her Harpsichord

Playing SINFONIA 1 by Bach.

In tune and in proper time,

the strings are plucked

As her teacher listens remotely,

But not remote

From accurate and sensitive instruction.

Playing continues

As I sit, enhanced by the composer’s timeless creativity, imagination, inventiveness and contributions

That fill the air with joy.

Her teacher, Rebecca Rashevsky,

corrects step by step,

Tender voice harping gently and with skill.

Now, they reschedule for next Tuesday,

May 19th, ,2020.

As the Governor of Massachusetts locks down travel.

We have friends who play at church on Sundays,

But church. too, may happen remotely from Heaven.

Martha sends payment by e-mail, to Rebecca and it works.

Yes, she got the payment.

But my payment was listening to the thrilling and trilling practice.

 ANTS ADVANCE AND FERTILIZE THE SOIL

Ants advance and fertilize the soil.

They also advance to keep on the sofa couch in our your company while one reclines, relaxing in the sofa couch

In our living room.

You call that living

With ants literally in your pants?

Feeling antsy pantsy?

Nonetheless, they are necessary for the environment,

Not for climate control

But for CLIMATE PATROL.

Welcome ant,

Not Aunt Pauline or Aunt Selma or Aunt Martha.

There are over 10,000 ant species in the world according to Wikipedia.

So many, a fertilizer delight.

Quite right for environmental might.

Yep!

They toil to fertilize the soil

Not to soil the soil

But to enrich the soul.

So don’t kill an ant,

But wrap it in a Kleenex

The reason Kleenex was created

And toss them outside

To share the air, trees, plants and plankton.

Auntie Mame be proud.

Don’t scream loud when they greet you

For they feat you in accompaniment.

VIDEOING AN ACCIDENT ON THE BQE

I woke up for my usual nightly lemonade  and orange mixed drink

And looked to see sky no moon to shrink.

Sans moon or stars

And wondered why?

Walking to the window

I was shocked to observe

In the distance

A traffic accident converse

With the traffic slowed  down precipitously

To the north of this city.

What a pity!

Birthing a calamity.

The police blue lights were blaring

As I was glaring

Daring to record it in a six minute video.

I hope no deaths ensued,

Was a car pursued?

Traffic then moved on,

At 2:20 PM,

The traffic still moves slowly north

While fewer cars move deftly south.

All of this I’ll read about

 in The New York Times

At morning time.

Bot having sat down from  the viewing and drunk the concoction

I bed to sleeping satisfaction.

To give Birth

As  to a daughter in France,

Indigo Lee Claudine DeLILLE,

Is a lilly within an Arrondisemont

Mounting a hill or within a valley

Starting a life

With a Lilly in the valley.

She is a Citizen of France

And we all will dance and prance in

Indigo’s colorful name of fame.

Now Martha ha returned from her Harpsichord lesson

Having stopped to see Russell

Dancing and rolling his arms at

The Mark Morris Dance Studio.

Now I, having set the table,

Enjoy a CD, heard often, but a favorite recording

“Mozart Goes To A Party@

With selections from:

The Marriage of Figaro

Don Giovanni

The Magic Flute

Abduction from the Seraglio

Plus Eine Kleine Nachtmusij

ad Others.

MOSS ART (Free Flight)

ALLELUJA from exulate, jubilation (Canadian Brass)

“SLEIGH RIDE” from German Dances (New York Philharmonic/ Bernstein)

OVERTURE ti Marriage of Figaro

TURKISH MARCH

 (Philharmoniv Virtuosi of New York/Capp)

I DREAMED

ABOUT A FESTIVAL

OF

CROISSANT-SIZED CAKES

THREE FEET

IN DIAMETER

 AND

BALLET DANCERS,

MANY FEET MOVING!

I dreamed about a festival

 of Croissant-Sized cakes

three feet in diameter

And ballet dancers,

Many feet moving.m in a parameter.

I was high up in the stands,

But did not stand

Engrossed in

their

Standings and twirling, much whirling,

And curling,

Not the sport, sport!

The Cakes were three feet in diameter,

A fete and a feat to eat,

Always a treat!

Waking up was not a relief,

But an elegant belief

In sleep’s pleasures, not grief,

And as the  ballet dancer’s

 many elevations elevated

 both my body and my soul,

Providing solace, quite whole!

CHANGE THE BATTERY ON MY

SLEEP MACHINE

THE

FIRST OF THE MONTH

Martha suggested that

 I change

the battery on my sleep machine

 the first of the month

 which I shall do first,

this being the 2nd of the month,

One day late,

A pitiful fate,

In which I rate

LOW!

Before anything else,

or else I’ll be condemned to purgatory

Which may be obligatory.

It’s cloudy out,

But we’ll take a walk, nonetheless,

Not while drinking Stout.

Her mileage goals higher than those a footballer requires

for a winning touchdown.

Distilled water now fills

my sleep machine,

For nightly sleep,

My soul to keep.

S A FICUS TREE

 A POEM IN A TREE?

Is a FICUS TREE a poem in a tree?

Each leaf,

part of a verse to provide relief

While couching and viewing.

There must be a thousand leaves

If you can belief it,

Too many to count

Or to doubt that number,

It’s three inch diameter trunk

Branches out and is a foot from embroidering the ceiling m,

It’s shadow a delicate overtaking.

The delicate Peacock Feathers on our window silk

Wave as our ventilators

comfort it and us,

No fuss.

Reminding me of the many PEACOCKS my boyhood friend, David Hamburg raised at his Pittsburgh estate,

off of Beechwood Boulevard.

A large Indian doll stands on the sill, meditating at will,,

A delicate transparent  flowered fan rests from fanning.

A bronze sculpture of houses sits with hook unsuspended.

Two bronze candle-stick holders back-up the shofars, each holders for three candles which I shall add in the future.

And two shofars rest with mouthpieces at the far end.

A glazed red clay sculpture of mine sits,

Bearing birds overlooking a valley,

Not a Rudy Valley, but a very nice valley.

To the left is a

very tall 6” Diameter clear glass vase

With slender casters and delicate buds, unwatered.

An 8” triangular, rounded tip glass sculpture sits next, clear glass at the top,

Filled blood red which I do not dread.

My postcard shows it copied wit a a twisted glass red sculpture also included.

Finally on the silk,

A bronze sculpture made at a John Wolfrum Truro studio sits,

Reminding me of that learning venture.

They are backed up by 24 glass lights,

Black framed

Top to bottom,

Square

Rectangular

Square

Rectangular.

THE WORKERS

ARE REPLACING

OUR

UNIT VENTILATORS

Zai and Seurat are replacing our unit ventilators

And the replacement technique require complex and skilled installators.

Their expertise a reflex to the work.’

Zai hums when he works,

The drill hums when it twerks.

One unit is fully installed at 12:29 PM,

The next to be completed after lunch. Amen.

Now that the work is done

on the installed unit ventilators

they ventilate

Quietly.

On departure,

one installer demonstrated

the thermostat instructions

Which were instructive.

They returned with a blow-torch

That I wouldn’t touch

Or I’d scream “OUCH.”

And torched the ventilator,

But not torchering it,

Thank goodness.

Now the workers are done,

Vacuuming completed!

Gone the rain,

Gone the sun

Now the work is done.

The day has been won!

Next we pick up Russell,

For dinner at Habino

While Sabine and Amy

See HAMILTON.

After dinner,

we will sit with Russell,

Maybe writing a poem together

Until they return.

What a day this has been!

GARRETT STOLER HANKERS

TO BE A BANKER

Garett Stoler hankers to be a banker,

Not a fish banking at the edge the sea,

Nor a shark

Piercing the bankrolls for percentage enumeration.

He knows how to cash checks

Checking the distribution of bills as the receiver wills.

He prefers to work indoors,

Caged like a lion or tiger,

Engaged with his clients,

Yet handsome, unmarried,

But harried by the handouts

Supplied by depositors

Whose accounts are repositors.

His smile is engaging,

Presaging the exchanges,

Not stock exchanges

Or rock musical arrangements,

Yet cheerful encounters

As the procedure

Fails to flounder.

Ask for a skylight

so the sun may lighten the bills

one must carry,

But proceed quickly

so clients don’t tarry.

A banker must be jolly,

Not necessarily roly-poly.

He is not Santa Claus

gifting money away,

But can pause to assure the count is right,

A mathematician’s delightful sway.

Hours of work are reasonable,

Nighttimes are available to play

Distributing money for drinks, luscious meals, and clothing that appeals.

He is a delight each NIGHT

For this special KNIGHT

Unhorsed, and armourless

But strategically glamorous.

A PHONE CALL

TO HAVA

Hava’s granddaughter, DANIEL,

has become engaged to RYAN.

When the wedding is planned

We’ll soon learn,

Planning to attend

Assuming it will be in Houston,

I’ll wear the tuxedo costume I’m use to.

Martha will wear her

stunning simply fashioned white gown,

Smiling, never a frown.

Who will conduct the ceremony,

We know not yet,

But vet the opportunity to learn when we are present,

Providing a watercolor present,

In their presence.

David and Erik went to Milton Academy together.

ALEX AND TOM JOIN MARTHA AND ELLIOT FOR DINNER

MARTHa has prepared

a.cHICKEN DINNER.

Alex and Tom asked if they could bring their dog to which Martha, generously said “YES!”

We’ll find out the dog’s name,

It’s RUBY!

And she, how large is the mane?

Regretfully we have no dog food,

Because Sabine and Amy took it,

Bernie and Howie,

Hunger for their Bowie.

The light is on to light their path

A high one that we hath,

Triangular to spread the light

As they alight on our deck.

On-line,

Martha is purchasing two ceramic cups that Madeline has made,

To help support her,

And to enhance our cupping experience.

It is pouring out!

The raindrops drilling the sky

Fill the land, all crevices, valleys, and streams to the extremes.

The birds, grasses and whales will be happy,

More water in all waterways

Will thank the clouds for their deliverances.

Alex and Tom, unbrellowed

Arrive,

Towel on step.

Wipe feet,

Not to forget.

GREAT ISLAND

IS GREAT

TO WALK UPON

AND VIEW A BONFIRE AT NiGHT,

A MEMORABLE SIGHT

Great Island is great to walk upon,

But don’t walk upon the water lilies

For their stems are not trunks

And you will be dunked sillies.

If you don’t have your bathing suit on

Be prepared to get trousers and flannel shirt soaked.

By no shark will you be poked.

There is no inlet from the ocean

So you won’t suffer commotion.

It is a cloudy day now

Having returned home,

As I relax on our recliner,

Awaiting Martha’s emergence from interior passage.

No passenger pigeons in sight,

And I cannot tell the difference between caws of crows and caws of falcons,

Not being an ornithologist who differentiates the sounds

of bird hoots and song notes.

The blue through the clouds is true blue,

And the sun, small, not new.

Wind so subtle, as the clouds huddle,

The clouds hardly move at all.

I hear a plane overhead,

Rising or in fall,

The distance disguising

the bifurcation of sky.

GREAT ISLAND is great,

Being there does’t grate,

But rates joy, resting,

and Martha painting.

There is no Middle Island or Little Island.

A lone sea-gull walks on the shore

As Martha paints for sure.

The afternoon sun appears to be split into two suns,

Like our two sons,

Now having merged

Into one great ball

Visual to all,

And then fronted by more clouds.

I hear a bee buzzing by,

A honey of a sound

And Martha proceeds north along the beach,

trailing the sand without sandals.

Assuring her strolling miler expectations.

The single duck has turned north

Ands paddles on.

Two guys, one red-shirted wirh cane and lightly bearded friend pass by.

A guy and and his daughter search the sky with binoculars.

Now the flies approach and I reproach them by adorning my shirt.

Two guys and two women arrive at the beach with their black dog,

And I shirt off, sitting,

Now, more sun to tan my tawny body

The mild wind cools me.

No urchins at the shore found today!

I respect their sculptural beauty and treasure any beach recovery. hooray!

Another couple enters the beach,

Blue Clad, they match the ocean.

Thunder rolls sound from the horizon.

The ocean waves soar gently.

A couple walk on with their white dog, leashed.

She has a red jersey,

He, red shorts and a red cap.

An elegant ensemble when they walk side-by-side, treasuring each lap.

Now the ocean is deep green and blue

With a faded pathway of light where the sun sets.

Three ducks float peacefully by.

The sea, full of sea-gulls,

But I am not gullible.

And MARTHA completes

more beautiful watercolors,

Capturing and abstracting her views,

As only she can.

After, we return to the beach

To capture

Not “The Burning of The Vanities,”

But the burning of lumber panels on the beach,

A fierce fire that has a high reach,

Possibly an hour of burning,

My not yearning to leave,

And dancing to the song f the flames,

As firemen put out fires that have jumped the site toward the bay,

Searching for relief, hoping for spray!

Wellfleet’s Fire-Department,

women and men, attentive nearby,

Smiling at play.

IT IS TIME TO DUMP ALONG AGAIN

It is time to dump along again

PURPLE BAGS securely bound with yellow ties

To see fellow Mark or his partner waiting for us

In the stark sun.

We have plastics lots of read papers,

All brined black and white

Because we don’t get funnies

As the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph prints,

So I miss Prince Valiant, Blondie and Dagwood, and The Katzenjammer Kids,

I kid you not!

They all get disposed in their prober bins,

None of them thins,

But enormous green steel containers

That Prince Rainer the attainer

Would not relish,

Not being a retainer of obsolete news,

No matter in what language he views.

I’m in Martha’s PRIUS

She the driver of courier.

Martha gathered lots of booksand other items we don’t need

To the SWAP SHOP

So to there we proceed.

Having dumped the dump,

Not having dumplings,

MARTHA code to drive to Provincetown,

A lovely place to visit,

Perhaps approach a dune soon.

It is sunny and not cold at all,

Despite its being FALL.

Yet far from FALLING WATER,

A Wright way to visit.

Now we’re on the beach

As Martha continues walking and I sit

The wind blowing hard.

I’ve found no sculptural Icahndms but will search further,

Sitting I’m on rRhe Truro beach.

One motor boat inn the far distance,

No sailboats, fir instance.

Shoes off,

Sand between my toes,

Better than sandbags in my eyeS.,

I suppose.

As the wind blows,

But not enough to create great waves,

As a singular one waves to me

Only one blue tent on the beach

Far from where I can reach.

The sky is a light blue,

The ocean black

And Martha searches for another place to paint,

Now we wag it for lunch,

“EAT, DRINK, HERE ( With two loaves of bread under.”

At LIZ!S CAFE/ ANYBODY’S BAR

HERRING RIVER OVERLOOK:

CONSERVATION LAND AND TRAIL

IN WELLFLEET

Martha walked vigorously along

The HERRING RIVER OVERLOOK: CONSERVATION LAND AND TRAIL

While I trailed along, stumbling, and far less vigorously.

I don’t know how many miles we travelled,

Martha said later, “not many,”

Although steep at parts, well worth it.

The OVERLOOK was spectacular

And the fall colors of green, yellows and reds informed us that

FALL HAD ARRIVED!

Offering to us viewers a view, bright and clear,

And why we love WELLFLEET.

We viewed The Herring River Estuary

I don’t know how many herrings spawn in the river,

But Keith Haring may know

Enough to supply us a dining opportunity.

None large enough to sport his shirt.

The trail is not a wide one,

Nor is it paved,

But Martha paved the way

As I followed and prayed.

No animals preyed on us

But mosquitoes did.

Now it is time to shower,

My drying off in the wind,

Towel dissatisfied with

My failure to need it.

Martha will prepare Polenta for dinner

With mushrooms from the Farmer’s market,

A fall feast.

ITS A SUNNY DAY AND WE’RE OFF TO

THE FARMERS MARKET

It’s a sunny day and we’re off to the aF to THE FARMERS MARKET

PRIUS propelled,

Farmers waiting to sell all

that they farmed and expelled to sell.

Martha turning oyster shells so they sink into the ground

And not into her tires,

As she is properly attired

For this mildly cold weather.

She returns to the Prius

As I sit,

Attired in my

Oyster and Beer Sweatshirt,

Hoping for many foods to purchase,

We went to

The Wellfleet Farmer’s Market

Dropped a dollar into the singer’s

Basket,

Bought three beautiful

purple egg plants,

Two beautiful orange tomatoes,

Did not see Geraldine present

And drove home to resident

Domicile.

I domelesticated, .

Now having resticated,

Found time to restore reading

WAR AND PEACE,

Tolstoy’s descriptive masterpiece.

It is cloudy out.

The trees wrestle in a mild wind.

I miss Erik who departed early in the morning,

Hopewell Junction Restauranteur Manager

And Juan-Manuel partnerentier,

Who, teaching fashion at Maris College

Holds a year end

FASHION SHOW PREMIERE

With professional models.

On our table glass square vase,

18” high,

Is a vase of flowers that Paula farmed,

Another 10” high,

Beckoning the sky.

And now

THE SUN ALSO RISES!

Our fireplace is filled with wood,

And fire we should

The longer we stay within the Wellfleet oaks and pines

Which are fines.

The traffic department has

restripesd Chequesset Road

With two brightly lined stripes

Parallel to one another

Assuring driver’s confidence in driving past one other.

Now it is time for lunch outside,

Eating our druthers,

First to wipe off the table,

Because I am able,

Then lunch prepared by Martha,

To my delight.

Salad, tomatoes, smoked salmon.

I had Cranberry juice to drink,

A decision to have,

Averting beer

Which I enjoy dear,

For now.

WITH YOUR GREEN SHIRT YOU BLENd iN WITH THE

SCENE

Martha says, “With your green shirt you blend in with the scene.”

And I, grass-eyed, surely dew.

The wind blows

And I feel a few rain-drops,

Then more.

The church bells ring

And Erik !asks me to return,

because it is raining.

Father!,he calls!

Next we purchase

A BERRY PIE

To make DESSERT

A JUST DESSERT.

From his CHEF.

Who make DESSERT just right with deft.

It started to rain

And we ceased to roam

Returning to home.

I have a hunch,

we’ll have bunch of lunch,

Details prepared, as usual, by Martha,

Though Erik knows how,

Having studied well to obtain such skills,

For he knows the drills chefs requires

to fulfill,

The hungry stomachs who crave food appeal.

Now time for lunch.

I love it with cheese,

Slicing off a white hick narrow piece

As introduction

To feast the mouth in preparation

For a light lunch indoors,

Attributable to the mild rain, outdoors.

Martha prepares a little salad and smoked fish,

Which is better than a smoking fish,

Camel cigarettes favored by my father, MAX, a maximum smoker.

THE

EMPIRE STATE BUILDING DIMENSIONS

Architect: Shreve Lamb and Harmon

Developer: Empire State, Inc. 1930-1931.,

Including John H. Raskob and Al Smith.

Structural Engineer:

Homer Gage Balcom

Main Contractor:

Starrett Brothers & Epan

Height: 1,250 Ft. (380 m)

Stands a total of 1,454 ft. (443.2m).

New York’s tallest tower until The World Trade Center’s Towers we’re constructed.

7th tallest tower in NYC.

9th tallest skyscraper in The United States.

49th tallest in the world.

6th tallest free-standing structure in America.

Art Style: Art Deco

NYC, 350 Fifth Avenue, 10118

Construction started March 12, 1930,

Completed April 11, 1931.

Opening May 1, 1931. 90 Years Ago.

Cost: $ 49,948,900:

$564,000,000 in 2019 Dollars.

Owner: Empire State Realty Trust

ANN, HERB, JANE, BEN, MARTHA AND ELLIOT WISHED TO HAVE LUNCH AT TRURO VINEYARD,

BUT IT WAS CLOSED SO LUNCH ENDED BEFORE THEIR DEPARTURE AT

MAC’S SHACK WHICH WAS MORE THAN A SNACK

AND FULFILLING

Ann, Herb, Ben, Jane, Martha and Elliot sought to have lunch

at TRURO VINEYARD

Quite a bunch.

A vast vineyard growing grapes of all colors,

harvesting them, and creating wine, bottling them for visitors to purchase and imbibe at home,

Requiring much time. sit not roam its acreage,

But, alas, it was closed.

Jane and Martha are going for a walk,

Though I did not squawk.

I declined, continuing to read

Tolstoy’s WAR AND PEACE.

They applied spray to repel bugs,

As I sat, reading in peace.

It is 10:34 and,

they walk

to POWERS LANDING

for an hour walk and return,

As I continue to read

the New York Times,

“Business Section, A Year Defined by Rental Cars.

As prices continue to ease in some cities, the industry’s long coaster-roller ride reflects the economy’s own strange trip.”

The article is of little interest to me.

Back to WAR AND PEACE to increase my reading.l in peace.

Then when they all return,

To lunch at TRURO VINEYARD.

I yearn to walk its acreage.

Paul from AMERIGAS just filled our gas tank and I gave him a bottle of GUINNESS BEER

Which he said he will drink when off the job,

Which will not rob him of opportunity.

Jane, Ben, Herb and Ann are packed to depart after lunch though they are welcome to stay longer

As I long for them to stay.

I also read an excellent article in

The Times about Simone Augustus

“A W.N.B.A. Stalwart Found Her Voice Long Before Coaching” an African-American Michael Jordan successor.

“She was an W.N.B.A. who retired after playing 15 Seasons, reflects the moments that let her understand her potential, she thinks of the stands at Baton Rouge High School, Louisiana.

She led the team to back-to-back state titles, scoring 3,000 points and losing just seven games in four years.

The school is at the center of the predominantly black neighborhood where she grew up, a neighborhood she described as close-knit and full of a bunch of people who you would never know that helped me make my game the way it is.” With each win though, the crowds gathered to see Augustus play at the Capital gymnasium started to look different.

The same white folks who, had we seen them driving down the street, would have been hitting the locks with their elbows and zooming through were suddenly embracing coming to the gym, wanting to experience whatever it is that they experienced while watching me play,” Augustus said.

We had a tasteful goodbye lunch at MAC’S SHACK,

after a last minute text informed us that the Crush Pad Food Truck

at Truro Vineyard would be closed today.

So we went to MAC’S SHACK

for a lunch to rack.

Martha and I had Sushi

and I had a Vodka cocktail whooshi.

Herb wasn’t hungry and preferred to loll.

Ben had a Lobster Roll.

Now Ann and Herb and Jane and Ben have departed.

We miss their company,

Wishing it just started.

We love them and look forward to their return,

WISHING THEM A SAFE SOJOURN

I showered, as usual drying out in the wind on our shower balcony,

Blue towel secured on the rails to thwart the view of drivers passing by.

After showering, we are enjoying our reading.

 SUNFLOWERS HAVE TWENTY

-

TWO LEAVES AND A FOURTEEN INCH STEM

Sunflowers have atwebty-two leaves and a fourteen inch stem.

We have two in beautiful ceramics vases with 3 inch white base and deep yellow above.

Two enhance our table,

Lighted by two of five inch diameter candles.

Bernie and Howie barked barked loudly at the screen door,

Our late night protectors.

“Leroy played poker.

Amy’s father was good at math as a card player.”

“Hey cousins, we’d Luke to

Play cards.”

Donna had a lovely house in Perth Amboy.

THE MOSQUITO

SQUAD MAN SPRAYS AGAIN

AGAINST MOSQUITOES BITING US AND GUESTS,

AND LATER, MARTHA, SABINE, RUSSELL AND I ATTEND OUR SHOW RECEPTION AT PRESERVATION HALL

The mosquito squad man speltays again against mosquitoes biti

They told me their names,

One was junior, the other I believe was Matt,

Both African-American.

After,

Sabine showed me a very complimentary article

From The Provincetowm zInfependent,

“ARTS BRIEF,”

Thursday, August 26, 2021/ B9.

“PERFECT PAIR AT PRESERVATION HALL,

WELLFLEET”

“NEAR AND FAR” is a show of paintings by husband and wife Elliot Paul Rothman and Martha Leibowitz Rothman

At Wellfleet Preservation Hall,

335 Main Street, running through September 23rd.

The show, curated by Megan Hinton and Susie NEILSON, includes works collected from 57 years of partnership, depicting travels to Cuba and India, as well as scenes closer to home in Wellfleet.

The Rothman’s background in Architecture give the works structure and a robust presence born from curious minds.

Martha works in pastel and oils.”

The Mosquito Squad has gone,

Each with a beer,

And we can rest, mosquitoes averted.

Delicious veggie lunch

And then to the beach after Russell arrives.

I just let Bernie and Howie out,

Leaching them to our heavy table legs.

because they barked for fresh air on the porch.

Howie barked at the open screen door,

And both confused barking facing the screen door.

I’ll bring out their water.

I continue to read WAR AND PEACE,

Never at peace, because it never ends.

Clouds Clouding The Sun
The cloud tries to form
Does it want to be a bear?
Shaped by air does it dare
To ride up
As a plane or a flame
Rapidly climbing
With harrowing timing
Challenging to cover
Sun atomizing
Blue sky intersecting
Sharply bifurcating
Air suffocating
Opening for relief
Growing in disbelief
As a plane blazes through
Bullet jet steely true
Tail cutting like a shark’s
Drawing blood
From the sun’s red rays
Blasting the stratosphere
Piercing the atmosphere
Tearing to persevere
It’s relentless journey
Toward extraterrestrial eternity
Only to be dissolved
BY THE SUN.

If I Could Fly High
If I could fly high
There I could try
To search a cloud
And learn its secret foil To the sun
Shading the earth
Reducing there mirth
Challenging it’s girth
Whatever that’s worth,
Spying on flowers
Colors varied and bright
Pedals glowing with light
Shimmering from winds that alight
Wings flapping so swift
To lift ever higher
Fervor exacerbating
Spirit intoxicating
Higher, higher, then higher
Ever the sigher
Breathing the air
Sacred and clear
Blessed and dear
Then should appear

Clouds
The clouds that float overhead
Sky blue surrounding so deep
Reap rewards of great pleasure
To treasure watching ever
This day’s shifting winds pushing creep.
The needle pines front the clouds behind
Trunk black yet the white abounds
Sun brightening fallen needles on ground
Black shadow on asphalt road going down.
FedEx climbs heavily for delivery beyond
Dropping package on sandy path or to deck yonder on.                                                              
FedEx, mission completed descends slowly another delivery successfully completed.
Recipients happily package open
What’s inside possibilities are spoken
Then un-rapped plastic exposes joyful newly owned clothes                                                     
To wear at a feast
Or at least relax with pet beast,
Levi, mixed French bulldog and Boston Terrier
Resting on porch
Heavy in sleep.
The clouds shift fast,
Distant flows
Basked in sun
Thinning out in flat strands
Some deep and some light
Seeking flight.
Pine cones abound at each branch
Heavy and dark shared with the bark
Yet it is the sound of the wind that transfixes
Pixellating like harpstrings
And whirling fervish like dervish.
Sun toward setting
Breaks through once dense cloud
And suns the oak leaves below
Until it dims then brightens then dims once again.                                                                     
Sun casting shadow
On sand path
To our deck
Leaves clearly defined.
The clouds that float overhead
Close over thy sky yet blue
True.
Night follows.
Tomorrow
“The Sun Also Rises.”

Shopping at Shop & Shop
I wait in the Prius
With Ruth, we’re serious
While Martha shops curious
Each morsel to be eaten
Some eggs to be beaten
In the morning earlier gotten
A long night’s journey into sleep
Forgotten.
Dinner prepared by Martha
Under daylight still bright
Sunset fighting through the pine thorns
Trunks blackening in opposition
Flowers savoring their last light.
Now the table is set.
Black China and napkins colored same.
Wine glasses tinted bronze water well welled.
Stainless steel knives, forks and also spoons, Serving pieces too, not too soon.
Three places with Ruth guest
Now reading The New Yorker’s best.
Tomatoes and mozarrela
Hours D’ Ouvres to savor
Plus other things assembled in feast and favor.
Request for cocktails behest
Then to relax
Light dinner to follow
With Basel on salad,
Fish, other things too.
Heavy Provincetown lunch.
After, SLEEP!

Steel Parts on A Steel Plate
How many parts
Can be welded to a steel plate
Nine inches by eighteen inches
Straight
At least twelve
One squarel
Another
Nine inches by nine inches
Two twisted shaped rusted rods
One straight up
The other at an angle
Perhaps thirty degrees right
Each forty-eight inches to heaven
And fired in fahrenheit
Three round hollow pieces
Five inches, four inches and six inches
Welded at edge
Projecting oe’r the plate
Water and snow flowing thru
With three triangular pieces
Also askew
Six inches, twelve inches, nine inches too
Thirty degree angled
Vertical queue
A weird structured piece
Got welded as well,
Once base to another that attaches quite swell.
They sit on our deck
But what the heck
Floated on stones
Where water floats under.
Is that a woodpecker I hear
Pecking the house upper rear.
I fear not, flew away
Another house it’s prey.
Steel
Parts on a steel plate
May they never ever separate.

Devouring Lobster
I savor a lobster
It’s abdomen filled with sauce and meat
It’s antennae defeat eat
The carapace
A shell game all its own
Cephalothorax don’t relax
Chelipod crusher claw
Crushed to eat meat
Chelipod ripper or pincher claw
Steamed no longer raw
Eye black and bulbous
Mandible unhandible
Maxillepeds that include endophite, proto- podite, exposure, gill and epipodite all excite
Periopods those walking legs
Suckable
Pleopods, summerets,
Eaten in summer yet
Telson, the central tail fin finite fine
Uropods, the outer pairs of tail fins
Heated and steaming and red bright stew
Surely finial delight too.

Sitting Reading The New York Times
It’s time to read the New York Times
Rhymes with good finds
Or eating fine limes.
There’s lots of news to cruise.
It averts funnies and comics too.
Is color too costly to use?
We get the New England Edition in Wellfleet.
Is the edition in New York more complete or replete.                                                                    
Reading of crimes, of rhymes, of sports and ports, of fires and firings,                                  
Of marriages, some divorces?
Under ARTS,
A.O. Scott’s “Critic’s Notebook”
Explains how “The Past Is Present Here,” on September 4, 2018, Page C1 of the Telluride Film Festival                                                                         
Where the backward-looking tendencies of cinema were on display.”                                  
“Every Day is Extra,” a new book by John Kerry, addresses "A Life in Full With Regrets and Idealism."                                                           
What about “Two Portraits of Kavanaugh Before Senate,” by Sheryl Gay Stolberg, featured page one                                      
That should be fun!
But not “Libyan Fighters Wield
Facebook Like A Weapon,”
But better than bullets.
Fire consumed the National Museum of Brazil,
Lacking fire suppression system,
Stupidity and despair of management there.
Glad new leader Carranza “Looks hard at racial
divide in New York’s Schools,”                               
Where race can debase teachers’ intent to erase illiteracy at fast pace.                           
Green cabs should have thrived in remote areas
Until Uber complicated things.
Editorial: In California, Facts and Science Matter                                                             
Would it in all other states
Flatter those who
Disregard climate change patter.
Letters to the Editor
Focused on thought
Tell what is and often what’s naught.
Written from Beaumont, New Canaan, Arlington and Wilmington                      
The nation addresses opinions unsimpleton.
Michelle Goldberg mourn’s America’s McCain
For Democrats and Republicans
Who cheer his strong reign.
It’s comfortable sitting here on our deck. What the heck!                                                 
Reading The New York Times
Afternoon in sun.
It informs, it refutes, it reports, it disputes.
Most of all
It provides
“All the News That’s Fit to Print”
Typeface with lead,
Text not leaden.
I enjoy absorbing
The New York Times
Comics absent,
No longer distracting.

A Turkey Crosses Our Yard
A turkey crosses our yard
Beak forward tail trailing
Crushing wet oak leaves fallen
No little ones followed
Was the nest left
Merely empty or barren
Or newly born of eggs
Eager to egg on life’s
Hatching soon?
In rain under cloud
Dripping not loud
Looking quite proud
Despite tail feathers not spread
She carefully tread
Colors muted but many.
Red, blue, purple and grey
Unreflected, no sun
That for another run.
The rain’s falling stopped.
Bustling breeze hopping through
The oaks swaying
The maples syruping not yet
Spouts protruding in expectation
For their seasonal expiation.
What was the turkey’s destination.
Food expectation or mate speculation?
What journey undertaken, rewards or opportunity forsaken?
A turkey has many feathers
Bedecked gloriously
It treads our carpeted oak leaves and maple leaves.
Then leaves.

Wire Cutter
I need to acquire
A strong wire cutter
Not to cut any faster
But to cut a bit better.
Metal drained of rain
Though wetter reigns yet
Drying fast in the sun.
It needs to be long and it needs to be sharp
But let’s not harp as we carve
The square corners
Of galvanized steel welded wire
As formers
Of new forms
Shapers toward new art.
Stapled to tree trunk
The base six inches strong
Clings deeply stitched
Its fun to cut wire
Creating art to aspire
Each square ammunition
For attachment permission
Little wires attached here,
Then then then and then there
Some to repair
Rain driven wind
Wind through and through
And that is right too.
It’s fun cutting wire
The wire cutter minding it’s sharp blades finds.

Rosh Hashonah Is Here Again
Prayer Book
Mishkan Hanefesh
Mahzor dor Thea days of Awe
BM675.G5Z667 2015
ISBN 978-0-88123-209-0
 Rosh Hashonah is here again
Pleasure two days appear again
Prayer and benching
Torah and parading
Forwarding the message
A New Year is here again.
5779 it is.
A long time ago that was
Many years to these days two
Feeling is great to be a Jew.
You may rejoice that way as well
All share such time it’s time to qvell.
Ceremony removing the Torah elevates
Removing its cover patience waits
Reading its text levitates
Prayers to accompany it make good our fates
Prayers at end satiate.
Marching to return it to Ark
Home there to rest ingratiate
Resting it in place rest us at place
Closing its curtain slowly at pace
Ends the ceremony with natural grace.
A sermon there follows
Thoughtful rarely hollow
Profound intelligence sourced
Rabbinic female or male resourced
Of course.
There is always a message profound
Pronounced elocution loud sound
So all there can hear
To bear the message so clear
Taking to heart the words constructed dear.
The service continues to Yizkor
Memorializing loved ones
Lost this year or past yore.
Aleynu at end all rise with one bend
Then rejoice in song at the end.
Kiddish is fine shortly after.
With candles, and challah
Torn but not cut
And lunch to the full
Chatting while munching
Until happily done.
Rosh Hashanah begins the New Year.
May all prosper and rapture
Good care to those less well fare
May all be fine
In Five Seven Seven Nine. 

Restaurant CECCONI’S
Restaurant CECCONI’S
Serves eggplant parmigiana
Right next to The Manhattan Bridge
On floating River Hudson
Tables outside serve six
Woven black and white armchairs
Arms fix
Avacado asparagus quite a dip
Ouerse De Ovres full plated
Emptied but no satiated.
It’s beginning to rain
I’ve lived my chair
It’s a pain
The wine bottle just drained.
Russell strawed his long drink
Cubes ice left to sink
But looking for toys his
While other drinks fizz
The kid he’s a whiz
Completing dessert
Well deserved.
The night lights on Bridge
Bridge the ridge
From shore to shore
Car lights bright
Two by two
Add Movement true and true.
Umbrellas over the tables
Defer rain which reigns light
They are able.
Russell are sufficient cake
It’s time for grandpa
Rest of cake take.
Martha, Sabine,
Erik, Juan-Manuel
Feast
Missing Amy at meeting
Making peace.

Mean Girls
We’re going to see Mean Girls
At August Wilson Theatre
Carnegie Mellon production
School needs no introduction
I attended it years many ago.
The College of Fine Arts
Deaned well by Norman Rice
Who did entice
It was quite swell.
He provided advice
For a Professor quite nice
Tall in stature and grey
To students array
Seeking performance with pay
Of course, applause every day
By audiences enthused
Often amused
Sometimes confused
Performance complex
In small theatre
Emoting text.
Performers on stage
Take on lives that survive
To continue performance
And thrive.
“All the world’s a stage
And all the actors unit merely players
They have their entrances and their exits
And one person in his day plays many players...”
So wrote William Shakespeare
Whose Globe Theatre
Enhanced the globe.
We mean to see Mean Girls
And we return after
We mean to sleep
And girl up in dreams.

Sitting and Relaxing and Reading The New York Times
September 25, 2018
On Brett Kavanaugh
I’m sitting and relaxing and reading The New York Times which is timely.
Twenty-five September 2018.
But I remember those read before
News to abhor or adore
To be thrilled by or chilled by
All the news that fits in print
What a stint!
The news there is plenty
Of comics it is empty
Which I miss cause I liked them
Lil’ Abner, The Katzenjammer Kids,
Prince Valiant and valiant others
Which were my druthers.
Editorials are tough, meaningful, some rough.
Paul Krugman’s right on
Drew Fagan dumps Trump
Michelle Goldberg despairs
At Brett Kavanaugh’s Yale
Recriminations
Drunken debauchery
Assertive lechery
Male entitlement
Female unsettlement
Sexual belittlement.
“The Yale Daily News”
Spoke of his fraternity’s
Views
Rapacious news
Sexual abuse
Delta Kappa Epsilon’s
Salacious, not obtuse.
“Notorious for disrespecting women,”
Later banned from campus for good
Doing bad.
“His story shows in lurid microcosm,
How a certain class of men guard and perpetuate their privileges.
Women who struggle ceaselessly to be smart enough, attractive enough, ambitious enough and likable enough have been playing a rigged game. We’ll know things have changed when palling around with sexual abusers carries more stigma than being abused does.”

Bosch the dishwasher does wash
Bosch, the dishwasher, does wash
Soap liquid in tray does splosh
Dishes and plates
Small plastic crates
Glasses inverted
Anticipating return
To cupboard doors folding up.
Silverware vertical
Serrated fruit knives facing down.
Stainless steel articles
Washed of their particles
Food draining down
Sucked through the drain
Racing to septic
Filtered at last
Within soil receptive.
Even itself BOSCH
Wosches with ease,
Each side, plastic holders
Stiff,
Do not crease.
The red light on does last
Until wash it is past.
The whirl of wash
Disposed of its hash
Reposes at last.
Now it is time
To return all to their cupboards
Places for each
So easy to see
The cupboards flip open
Three in a row
The first has one shelf
The middle exhaust fan
That extends through a shelf
Just above the gas stove
Four burners for burning.
Two swinging doors to the right
Open not tight
For the pots and the pans
With strainers fit right.
All are so clean
Dry for the night
Seeking to be useful
As all of us might.
Tonight
BOSCH the dishwasher
Completed its task
Now to sleep
Quiet at last.

Allan cuts hair
Allan cuts hair
Whether dark or fair
With shears he cuts
No tears result.
He cuts with care
Accuracy to bear
Some short
Some long some curly
Those bald less to report
Or sort from the fallings
To the floor, floor calling.
The hair sprayed wet
Get better combed
Roamed by the comb
In our home yet.
Baci, Pekingese,
Drinks water with ease
Pug-nosed if you please
Cream colored four footed
He averts if you sieve
But is quite calm
Until barking
Attracting attention
To hold and to hug.
Haircut is done.
That was quite fun.
Allan sweeps hairs
Which is fair to complete.
Broom now closeted
Hair all deposited
Now to have dinner
Performance a winner.

Figs Are Clothes
Figs are clothes
But you can’t eat them
#wearFIGS
They look good on you
Advertised on the MTA
You do need to pay
For such array.
Chose some that suit your pallor
All colors available
All saleable
Dollars malleable
Just hand to cashier
Register ringable.
Wear walking out
Or bear in bag quite stout.
Wash with Shout
Figger it out
Clothes are Figs
Shipped in rigs
To department store digs.

It’s a cloudy day in Brooklyn
It’s a cloudy day in Brooklyn.
The blue sky is totally obscured
The buildings
Grey grey, grey red, grey green roof red
Grey aluminum clad
Grey orange now bland
There is no blue in the sky
Yet the rain not yet falls
It appalls.
We’ll don our raincoats
To proceed to Theatre August Wilson
At fifty-third Street Manhattan
To view
Mean Girls
CMU Event maybe with swirls
Performance enhanced
By instructors advanced
But performance sold out alas.

A Succah In Washington Square
A Succah in Washington Square
Next to the great arch that enters
Prepare
The lulav and esrog held steady
Then shaking for onlookers ready
Some dancing while swaying
Perhaps even praying
The leaves over Succah
Praying with the wind.
Stands a black suited orthodox
Receiving the entering
Then clapping with joys
As boys in the band.
“Let us a standard to which the wise and the honest repair. The event is in the hand of God.”
Washington
The door is closed. Prayer inside ensues.

Breathing Night’s Vacuousness
Night’s vacuousness
It’s vastness
Beyond my moon and stars
Spaced out yet fully conscious
Starry eyed and bleary faced
Outpaced by astronauts
Not as a stranger to comets raced
Faced with long forgotten stars erased
But fully graced by birds nested at night, not alight.
How black the night
Yet cars far below throw light
Far forward lighting the toad
Red taillights behind
Remind us to care
Or dare to find disaster threatened
Should speeding result
In pleading to police politely.
The noise of traffic outside
Competes with conditioned air within.I
Only to return to sleep
A long one hopeful
Til daybreak breaks
For breakfast hope.
When serrated knife severs
The rinds of orange
Night gone
On to day’s adventures. 

All I Do Is Sleep
Maybe all I do is sleep
It’s enough to make me weep
Hoping to keep my soul alive
Solely to enjoy the day, even jive.
So awake your soul!
Take a trip to Veteran’s Cane
To repair some chairs and assemble cheers.
Completing our seating
Pleading for full company
To use them with pleasureo
Consuming their measure
Of meal at their leisure.
so waking up is better.
Living is livelier.
You can see the sun when awake
Visit the sons eating cake
Daughter securing products
For magazines their advertising
Advising good goods
Many beautiful too.
Good for you, family and life.
If all you do is sleep
Do your dreams enhance?
Perchance creating worlds
In which to whirl
Not as a dervish
But with furvish delight.
Of worlds beyond
Of happy things to respond
To
Of flowers that flower
In all seasons
To devour
Heaven’s rains
Exhibiting their power.
If all I do is sleep
It is better
Than to awake never again.

Waiting Room
Waiting room
Doctor anticipation
Reception desk wide
Wood counter stained brown dark
Magazine rack bolted left
Five shelves high
Variety to read
Carpet panels purple, red and grey
Offset by walls greyTo allay patients
From anxiety.
A black rectangular carpet
Reception desk placedSaves all that is under
From pedestrian rest.
Ceiling lights recessed n coned lamps
Aluminum, fluorescent
Ceiling tiles supported
By white strands omnipresent.
Softening the space.
Air conditioning propels
Air far to exhaust
Not effervescent.
Six Chairs fabric clad black
Arms leather black too
As is plastic coat rack
Supported by plastic black
Trapezoids.
Four double hooks
Balled ended.
Five doctors are named
Instead silver plaque
Waiting more.
A red fire alarm box
Leads to red alarm box above
Wired adroitly
Electrician’s skill piped at will.
A for to depart
Three hinges quite smart
Aids it to swing
Aluminum handle levered down.
Goodbye!

Breathing
All Night Through A Suctioned Orifice
Trying to stay healthy
But breathing all night
Through a tubular orifice
Suctioned distilled water
Filling the throat
Rolling through mouth
As a boat through a moat
Makes sleeping all night
A continuing fright
The huffing and puffing
Relentless on pillow
Makes a fellow mellow
Or feeling like jello.
A medical invention
Heaving chest seems not best
Arresting one’s rest
At the crest of the night.
Some claim this is healthy
This stealthy intervention.
What kind of prevention
Does afford such detention
Imprisoned in mind
Pulsating to seek
Comfort in sleep
While reeking one’s soul to keep.
Will I wake fulfilled by this night
Or filled breath by breath
Heaving in and then out
Through mouthpiece do pout
Plastic rim round lips
Triangular pointed
From nose to wider mouth.
Does this device
Clear the mind
Actually improve
Power to find
Clarity of thought Devine.
I’ll reflect in the morning
Prescribed for healthy mind.
Satisfied at breakfast
By serrating an orange
Peeling its cover
To discover
The fruit to recover.
After breathing all night
Through a tubular orifice
It’s a good way to surface.

It Better Not Rain At Oysterfest
It better not rain at Oysterfest
In Wellfleet
Our guests would test the rain
And resist the pain
Wetness retains untented.
Tentativeness to attend
Despite oyster’s attractiveness,
Oyster’s  succulence
Our truculence.
But we must tent.
Large and white
Some black others blue
Casting a hue on you.
A draining experience
Lest you scuttle a puddle.
Friends join you
Jane and Ben
Ann and Herb, Sally too
Friends for life
And shucking oyster’s too.
There are other goodies
Anticipating  foodies.
A jazz band’s there
To make the sounds
That make you dance,
Prance, not frown.
Night before
I hear draining rain
But it better stop
For the Oyster hop
To be better
Please sun shine
At this time of year! 
Elliot Paul Rothman
October  2018
5:37 AM
Urging contestants
To a shuck constantly
Rapidly, furiously,
Muscle edging
Then opening to be devoured
Succulently.
Under tent raindrops
Pound their weight
No noise abates.
Please clouds defer
Let the sun infer
It’s mighty light
And warmer might.
Then the birds can thrive
On bugs quit live
Or simply crumbs
From from cakes and buns.

It’s a full moon tonight

Round and glowing

Yellow lamp flooding light

Across the sky.Really!But not  really

For the sky remains black

The bright lights only

In the Brooklyn apartments across the BQE

From me.

I see it through the twenty-four panes of glass

While I sit at my maple table

Easting maple walnut ice-cream,

The maple not carved from the table itself.

Crunching the walnut

Against my rear tooth brace

As the walnut table resists

The weight of the glass bowl

Filled with more than ample scoops.

Alas, final crunches

As the ice cream further flows

Through creamed throat.

Ready to rest on cream colored sheets.

With multicolored duvet cover.

IT’S A FULL MOON TONIGHT

It’s a full moon tonight

Round and glowing

Yellow lamp flooding light

Across the sky.

Really! But not  really

For the sky remains black

The bright lights only

In the Brooklyn apartments across the BQE

From me.

I see it through the twenty-four panes of glass

While I sit at my maple table

Easting maple walnut ice-cream,

The maple not carved from the table itself.

Crunching the walnut

Against my rear tooth brace

As the walnut table resists

The weight of the glass bowl

Filled with more than ample scoops.

Alas, final crunches

As the ice cream further flows

Through creamed throat.

Ready to rest on cream colored sheets

With multicolored duvet cover.

New Year’s Eve 2019

Martha and I eat dinner

Shrimp and broccoli rave

For which we raved.

And for desert we have Brie

As one can see.

The fireworks

Over Prospect Park

We’re bright as a lark

If a lark is bright.

They exploded for at least seven minutes

Which was too short a time

Which we savored

As the originators labored

Our craving

Raving from our

Brooklyn Apartment view.

Now Martha and I dessert with Brie

Which is delicious as can be.

Now to putout the table candles.

The vertical aluminum lamp

Lights the Ficus tree leaves

Reflecting the in black shadow

On walk, ceiling, and topmost

Two window pains

Which is not a pain,

But a delight.

We finish our wine glasses

First having drunk

The Dettling Kirschwasser

Finishing with the very sweet

Sambucca Sarto digestive liquor

From Italy.

Dinner over

We return all dishes and silver to the dishwasher, for washing, of course, and removal prior to breakfast. Now to bed, meal satiated, Our souls to rest.

ROTHMAN ORTHOPEDICS,

No relation, friendship with doctors secure.

Spine surgery perfection

Need no resuscitation

Return visit a necessitation

Causing this recitation.

The receptionist is courteous

Busy on the phone

OK response, “That’s fine” and then “A thank you so much.”

Asked male client if he had any x-ray, response, “No.”’

Brown hair, widely parted, light brown checked shirt,

Black silk vest and black trousers,

Rises as called in to see the doctor.

Young teenager enters, hands envelope to

receptionist, then sits.

Receptionist elegantly dressed with high light brown leather boots.

Three round linen shades, about 18” high lights the desk.

Another patient enters to see a doctor.

I learned that Dr. Dick Rothman passed away,

But the receptionist did not know when,

Since she has only been the receptionist for a year.

Two lovely paintings hang in the waiting room. Both show fall leaves, not yet fallen,

One of two rows of oaks bordering a tree lined path, with wood benches, with orange, red and yellow fallen leaves carpeting the path.

The first

About 6’ x 3’ ft.

The other a fall leaves oak tree in an open field about 4’ x 3’.

Single chairs are in mahogany red

With armchairs, three horizontal bars, each side (of utii course).

Some chairs have grey thinly woven fabrics,

Others striped thinly, grey-brown, grey, rust, deep brown,

All restful and comforting colors.

I write this,

Waiting for Martha, a patient, while I write patiently, seeing Dr. Michael L. Smith, Specialist in Spine Surgery, RothmanOrtho.com, without an e-mail address.

I Dreamt Of A Festival In Israel

I dreamt of a festival in Israel

Yet it wasn’t Purim yet

It’s date thiS year is 5780

And will vet on the American calendar 2020?

I checked not check-mate

As in chess or flashing hockey.

Puck is a character or a black disc pushed by a hockey blade.

A wood blade, slid along the ice

Slicing through the opposition

To the net

Goalies, thickly clad

With legs spread

As a ballet dancer

Flat out and wide.

Yet it is too hot in Israel

And the hockey rink needs to be secured from such weather.

A festival in Israel can be festive.

Herzelian in concept

Fulfilled in reality

Mount Scopus in scope

And Solomon’s Temple

To gloat!

Family is copious.

The Argamanys, The Klein’s, Zinis and Krupnicks.

Yucal Klein, after he s three year military stint

Expects to study at The Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

He will excel at any subject he chooses,

Possibly on to a Ph.D.

I dreamt of a Festival in Israel

Joining the Family

In raucous celebration.

Year 5780, America 2020.

We can’t travel outside today.

The is in our way.

“The SARS-CoV-2, Coronavirus, the cause of the pandemic, belongs to one of 6,828 named species of virus. There could be trillions of viruses yet to be found.” - “The Virosphere is bigger than you can imagine”- see Page D3 of The New York Times “Of Interest, New York Times, Tuesday March 24, 2020.

It’s worldwide contamination

Is perverse

And, seemingly, the CDC

Has not determined how to reverse.

Numerous deaths have been reported.

“American officials have estimated that the country would need 3.5 billion masks to cope with a yearlong Covid-19 epidemic.- “Prickly Relations Aside, U.S. Needs China’s Masks, B1.”

“Factories are producing around the clock,” said Ida Chang, the marketing director at Danguan Witop International Trade, a respirators and masks trading firm in Dongguan, China.

Sadness prevails

For those deported to another world,

Deserving of Heaven,

Escaping from this Hell.

HUMMMUS

Hummus is made of chick peas.

Chick peas are vegetables,

Grown in gardens

As they harden.

Now pasta after

With

Parmeson Cheese added

Couldn’t be better

Pan very hot

Bowl emptied

Pasta plenaries

Mixed in orange frying pan

Hotter than hot.

Martha washes utensils

With wood handle mixes more

Getting ready to pour

Onto white plates waiting to score.

Silver mwuth knife, fork and salad fork.

Dinnner is done.

Martha cleans up

As I relax, continuing to read

So Thomas More’s “Ideal Comminwealth,”

Beginning Book 11., Page 34.

MAY DAY

Quoted from ALMANAC.COM

“May Day has its roots in astronomy. We’re (about) halfway between

a Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice.

It’s one of the Celtic cross-quarter days, which celebrated the midway points between all solstices and equinoxes

of the year.

As with many early holidays,

May Day was rooted in agriculture.

Springtime celebrations filled with dance and song hailed the sown fields starting to sprout.

Cattle were driven to pasture, special bonfires were lit, and both doors of houses were decorated with yellow May flowers.

Later celebrations evolved to speak more to “The Bringing In The May’ with the gathering of wild flowers and green branches.

The weaving of floral gardens, the crowning of a May King and Queen

And setting up a decorated

Maytree or Maypole around which people danced.

Such rites originally have been intended to ensure fertility for crops, and by extension, for livestock and humans, but by most cases this significance was gradually lost, so then the practice survived largely as popular festivities.”

IT’S SUNNY TODAY,

SATURDAY MAY 2, 2020 AS MARTHA PLAYS THE HARPSICHORD

It’s very, very sunny today.

Martha opened

The third lower window to the right to let in the fresh air.

The cars and trucks ,vans and large trailer trucks noise on, traveling the BQE, from Brooklyn to Queens.

I view my bronze sculpture of a man and a woman, 27 inches high on John Wulfrum’s 5 foot black steel base,

I’m sitting on one of our two SCARPA brown leather chairs

While Martha plays her Harpsichord,

INVENTIO 1V by Bach.

It is light and trilling, thrilling to succumb to as I listen, appreciatively.

The sun casts an elliptical ring on our ceiling.

Incised by a reverse elliptical arch

As the music gently arches.

Trolls halt, then proceed in halting pace,

Not a race at all

Fingers elegantly guided

Strong strings responding

Plunked, happily tickled,

Not a trickle,

But like water streaming,

No rocks obstructing

Or breaking the bubbling flow.

She proceeds the gentle flow.

ISTS

Abolitionist

Botanist

Carnivalist

Dentist

Evangelist

Fascist

Gerontologist

Herpilogist

Judaist

Koranist

Liturgist

Monotheist

Novitiateist

Piortraitist

Quantifiist

Radicalist

Sanctifiest

Traditionalist

Urologist

Xylophonist

Zionist

HAVE I GIVEN ANY MONEY TODAY?

My honey asked

Have I given away any money today?

I didn’t tell her that I found

Ten beggars on the street

All dressed in their best

Armani, Brooks Bro’s. And Norstrom’s suits

Appropriate ties to match

And shoes of excellence, brown, black, alligator, and patent leather.

They were not holding out their hands

But extending their leather designer bags,

Certainly they would not use rags,

So that generous donors would reciprocate their elegant tastes.

Their chauffeurs waited behind

Expecting to share in the coffers.

It really is a full day’s work

And when they return to their luxurious homes

They learn that their daughters and sons

Have been successfully admitted to the finest colleges.

But I looked in my wallet

And was surprised that I had left my money at home

Only American Express credit card to expend

Payment due in timely fashion.

So I gave no money today

In response, my honey said hooray!

SPELLING BEE

I’m gratified to be a genius

In THE SPELLING BEE.

I’ll confirm on My Webster’s Dictionary

Just to see.

Six letters surround-

A, C, D, O, R, and T

With L lording it in the middle.

I’ve listed:

1.       Troad

2.       Rotor

3.       Rotator

4.       Accord

5.        Orator

6.       Actor

7.       Allord

8.       Dollar

9.       Coloraturas

10.   Tador

11.   Rocalat

12.   Doralat

13.   Roladott

14.   Local

15.   Codoralat

16.   Closest

17.   Droot

18.   Droor

19.   Adort

20.   Total

21.   Roracol

22.   Lotto

23.   Allot

24.   Clorator

25.   Drattor

26.   Rattor

27.   Clatter

28.   Cladder

AFTER TOTTILLA

 Corn tortilla with spices, vegetables and sour cream

Is a dinner that one dreams of long after

The spices retain biting the mouth

Yet the sour cream, not sour

Scoured the taste.

Prepared by care by Martha,

She enters the dish washers to weep, cleans and sleep

To be removed in the morn,

We are going to watch a new Opera

Which should be dessert in itself.

I sit on our red woolen woven longe daybed

Waiting for Martha to step ahead

And join me.

The Opera, newly composed

Is “ANGEL’S BONE”

By Hu Yun.

From Hong Kong

SAILING

I watched a crew

Back the legal white sailboat

Into the water to float.

Two women, four guys.

The wind was harried strong

Blowing hard from the east

A weathered feast.

Waves curling white caps

Backgrounded by the deep blue ocean

In motion.

Grey clouds low,

Maybe 300 feet high at their bottom

To 500 feet at top

With a blue sky shining brighter

As the sun sets behind falling to the sitter,

Down on the west, on course.

Three women rest on the beach,

One with red halter and bathing suit,

Guy on my right

On a multicolored blanket striped, in part, blue.

Sailboat is set into the water

One guy on each side hauling it in.

Grey shirted guy starts the motor.

Black motor hesitates to start ,

Throttle pulled, NOW IT ROARS!

Five boats anchored, patiently waiting for their crew

Not necessarily with crew cuts.

Rudder secured.

Motor silent.

Sailing, pushed by the twirling wind.

Two other hairy, bare-chested guys

Sail their boat rapidly into Wellfleet Bay.

Free from the sand

Joy endured, shouting today Hooray!

How long will they sail?

I don’t know.

Perhaps until the sun sets

Or the rains arrive

Or they haven’t brought dinner on board

If they are simply bored.

Good sailing, sailors.

Your boat is a beauty.

Envy of all.

BEACH

CHAIRING IN THE WIND

AT DUCK HAEBOR, WELLFLEET

And the wind is strong

and speaks

it’s whirling dervish language.

It is low tide and 35 feet of rock lines the shore

In front of where we have settled our folding chairs.

Martha begins her walk to the North this time.

I wear a white T-Shirt I as I scout the sands,

Searching for the sculptural urchin shellfish

That I then set vertical, point down into the grill of our heating units at home in WELLFLEET.

I don’t look for clams and oysters anymore, having saturated the collection at home.

I’ve saturated the mound with beautiful white rocks as well and bronze figure on top as well.

Regretfully no SEA URCHINS found this trip.

Connie Ulichny was not around to find the Urchins.

The sky is grey,

Clouds are deep Grey-White near the horizon,

While the ocean is black

With a little light from the Clouds shrouding the sun,

now, no longer viewable.

The rocks extend 35 Ft. at low tide- colored white, chocolate, grey and black.

No bright VIBGYOR colors to please the eye.

Even the sand is deeper beige,

Not the sand the SANDMAN brings to covet you under the covers.

A lone sailboat is Southwest,

But even it’s SAIL appears GREY.

And the wind blows on!

Martha’s beach chair is the only red I can read.

Distant voices to the south echo across the water roils in the wind.

Martha has not yet returned from her walk, desiring at least two miles.

The Seagulls sound their wish for her return!

It is windy now

But a HURRICANE Is expected on SUNDAY!

“Close all windows and roof hatches, Elliot.”

WOW!

THE SUN IS OUT NOW, stronger than ever,

And I don’t have sun tan lotion on, but Martha hands me her 30% tube:

The sun comes out even stronger

And

children’s playful voices echo from the distance.

I hear that voices trekking in the wind

Sans kites trekking.

ARE YOU DEAD

OR DO YOU

NEED THREAD?

I was asked

By a familiar voice,

“Are You Dead?”

Happily, I realized that I was very much alive, hearing Martha’s question.

Resting on our Ottoman Recliner,

Rope strung with aluminum arms and four white legs.

With separate footrest,

And with my Martha,

Having savored yesterday,

Celebrating our 57th year of marriage

On Main Street, Wellfleet

At The Winslow Tavern.

We met at The Harvard Graduate School of Design,

Where I served delightfully as an Associate Professor of Architecture

And an Associate of Benjamin Thompson Architects.

And she was a student,

Having previously graduated from Sarah Lawrence College.

I asked her to marry me and she, thankfully said “YES!”

We were married at The Harvard Chapel.

Years later, after birthing Sabine, who now claims to be the younger sister,

She bore fraternal twins, Adam and Erik.

Adam is a Professor of History at Georgetown University; Erik manages The Hopewell Junction Country Club,

While spouse, Juan-Manuel

Olivier- Silvera teaches fashion design at Maris-College

With professional models displaying clothes designed by the students.

I’m not dead, only dead to the world as I rested on our stunning Ottoman.

Now to finish repairing ny Marimekko shirt, sold in “Design Research,” and produced by Armia Ratia in Finland.

The store that Benjamin Thompson created while Chairman of The Architectural Department at HGSD.

Now to repairing the cuffs of my orange and yellow striped Marimekko shirt.

Repair rdne with purple thread,

Orange and yellow needing to be purchased:

Now I need thread and am not dead!

GUY SITTING ON A RAFT WITH AN UMBRELLA BLOWING IN THE WIND ABOVE AT GREAT POND, WELLFLEET, FOLLOWED BY

MEGAN HINTON’S PERFORMANCE WITH PAULA ERIKSON

There is a guy sitting on a rubber raft with an umbrella above him that is blowing in the wind,

Blowing lightly and not hard.

I’m

Going unto the water, umbrellaless

To join Andy and Jesse as they swim, while Martha sits an reads.

Echoes of others swimming share the breeze.

Great pond is perfectly round

As I ponder it

With pine trees sloping up a MB’s down

Possibly 150 feet up hills a

A grandfather has his grandson riding on his shoulders.

Martha shows me photos of Russell swimming at Red Hook pool,

Crawl, breaststroke, and butterfly with skill, alacrity and enthusiasm.

I went swimming

I Came out

And dried off in the wind!

A mother floats buy, pushing an infant boy and an older young boy n a grey blown up float, one boy singing with arms in the water.Jesse reclines reading,

Andy, lying flat on his back

Light brown cap over his face, shielding from the sun.

Davi now sits up, continuing to read,

As does Martha continue to read.

The wind now blows strong

And I leaned against a wood rail

DRYING IN THE WIND!

And the pond water ripples faster C to the East.

I look forward to LOBSTERS Martha has planned for dinner… my vodka, then wine with dinner.

It’s cloudy now.

The sun has disappeared.

The clouds to thee East

Have turned a dark grey

Racing to obliterate the light blue sky sky to the west.

Children’s happy yells continue to echo

As a sailboat proceeds in the distance,

White sail against the black-green fir trees across the pond, proceeding up the high hills, tilting in the wind.

A swimmer passes backstroke.

as we depart.

The rain starts

And Martha, The Weatherwoman,

Says it will pass away.

Riccardo, Photographing toward us is in the water,

Along with Davi.

She returns to shore

And he keeps photographing 100 degrees around the pond.

A mother sailboat sails by striped from top to bottom, pink, deep blue, light blue and white.

The boat is white too.

Andy proceeds to swim,

A final whim.

As does Ellie!

A woman and a guy, each on their own surfboards continue on.

Now at 7:13 PM

Martha picks up Lobsters and Corn for another dinner winner.

Two labradors, one brown and one black hop into the truck next to us, Martha, still the merchandiser.

What a day this ha been!

Next to see MEGAN’S INSTALLATION

Now we are there with Megan and Paula

All Watching the basketball player with blue cap, green shirt, labeled Wellfleet OysterFest Beige shorts, mixed socks and messy brown shoes.

Back of the T-shirt reads “Got Oysters.”

Megan and Paula have camera facing the basketball hoop, backed by a large white panel against the high chain link fence

Facing Wellfleet Bay,

Sun totally set

With broad reddish caught setting into the low blue sky.

Light shines on white panel

Image looks likes Troy West’s sculpture, including erect penis.

Megan moves screen back

And image is now red.

Image just turned white.

Music pulsates.

Megan reaches up and fastens basketball to exterior of basketball ring.

Now we wait,

I watched, resting against another basketball post.

Next to dinner with Davi, Ricardo, Jedda, Andy’s girlfriend,Andy ,Martha and me.

Now, Megan and Paula play basketball, sinking baskets in the black sky!

Camera is moved much further back

And the black sculptured image

Grosses out

Revealing a red grid

And then newspaper print,

Pages overlapped.

The basketball backboard is a bright white

Then red- striped.

It is done and we are asked to walk around.

It is about projection and clear glass.

Now the lobsters are steamed

And turn bright red.

Now to dinner with Andy, Jedda, Davi, Riccardo, Martha and me.

The lobsters are placed in boiling water, turning red.

The corns are removed from their green sheaths and boiled in water.

The Bluefish dinner is fulfilling, tasteful and cooked, rewarded by Martha’s culinary perfection.

SPELLING BEE

I’m gratified to be a genius

In THE SPELLING BEE.

I’ll confirm on My Webster’s Dictionary

Just to see.

Six letters surround-

A, C, D, O, R, and T

With L lording it in the middle.

I’ve listed:

1. Troad

2. Rotor

3. Rotator

4. Accord

5. Orator

1. Actor

2. Allord

3. Dollar

4. Coloraturas

5. Tador

6. Rocalat

7. Doralat

8. Roladott

9. Local

10. Codoralat

11. Closest

12. Droot

13. Droor

14. Adort

15. Total

16. Roracol

17. Lotto

18. Allot

19. Clorator

20. Drattor

21. Rattor

22. Clatter

23. Cladder

FRANCES AT ABYOYO

Frances is shopping at ABYOYO

I wonder how many outfits we owe yo.

She probably picked legged outfits

She never wears dresses

Despite the fact that she dresses very well.

Only people under age 60

Are allowed in, my age 25 years above that, though I do wear a hat,

Not “A Cat In The Hat”

As Dr. Suess would have that.

Sitting in the car, windows fully down

I feel that it is very hot out

The sun serves its purpose

Though this son looks to go home to repose and rest.

The beach would be nice

But it is a reach as I am tired and look foremost to sleep a little this afternoon.

I look forward to seeing the outfits she selects.

Her choices are thoughtful for her intelligence and alertness are prime.

She has good taste, choosing without haste.

Her verbal proclivities provide her the liberties to ask what she wants

And obtain what she needs,

Though her wants may exceed what she needs, her needs may not exhaust what she greeds.

So she gets it in concept and receives all in reality.

She is also getting a deck of cards, all 52, including a Joker, no joke in Poker.

Now they’re done shopping

Returning to Martha’s Prius hopping

Happily.

Returning she bought a ball

And the playing cards.

Modest in request but enduring fun.

IT’S A FULL MOON TONIGHT

Reading

Journal of a Resident On

a Georgian Plantation in 1838-1839

It’s a full moon tonight

Saturday August One 2020

As it shines through our pine trees and maple trees

From the southeast windows

Of our Wellfleet House.

After dessert of chocolate chip ice cream

And a meal of blue fish, pasta salads, artichokes and Rose wine.

Our three inch candles lit the table

As they enable are dinner light.

Martha has travelled on our porch

To our Master Bedroom

As I carry a torch for her love.

Now I continue to read

“Journal of a Residence on a Georgia Plantation”

By Frances Anne Kemble

Edited with an introduction

by John A. Scott.

Brown Thrasher Books

The University of Georgia Press, Athens

30602

Published 1984

Copyright 1961 by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.

Dedicated for Elizabeth and Wendy.

ISBN: 0-8203-0707-6 (obj).

I am at Chapter 2: Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina.

It is only 8:59 PM so I have time to read

Before bedtime.

They are traveling by train toward Philadelphia on Friday morning,

December 21, 1838

And she is writing to friend

Harriet St. Leger while crossing the Schuykill Bridge

Starting Dear Harriet:

“” Over a bridge, one of the piers of which is yet incomplete, and the whole building

(A handsome wooden one of handsome dimensions) filled with workmen, yet occupied about its construction.

But the Americans are impetuous in the way of improvement, and have all the impatience of children about trying the new thing, often retarding their own progress by hurrying unduly the progress of their own works, or using them in a perilous state of completeness.

Our road lay for a considerable length of time through flat low meadows that skirt the Delaware, which at this season of the year, covered with snow and bare of vegetation, presented a most dreary aspect. We passed through Wilmington (Delaware) and passed a small stream called The Brandywine, the scenery of which along the banks is very beautiful.

For its historical associations I refer you to Washington.

I cannot say that the aspect of the Town of Wilmington, as viewed from the railroad cars , presented any exquisite points of beauty; I shall therefore indulge in a few observations upon these same railroad cars just here.

EPR Note:

This starts Chapter 2, from Butler Island,

January 1839.

The book ends at Page 383

Followed by Appendices A, B, and C.

TEN PARTS

I peeled my Aaliyah orange

Easily into ten parts

Which I intend to eat, part by part.

Each of the parts

Rests on a heavily used and washed

Orange plate.

Oatmeal cereal was next

Vexed with blackberries betwixked.

Half a bagle, toasted followed

Coated with cream cheese and a jam

That jammed my teeth.

Of course CAPPOCHINO followed

With plastic black cap inserted into dispensing machine, a queen of engineering.

PURREL AND OATMEAL

Wash your hands with soap and water

After a visit to the dump you otter

Cardboard dumped into the dumpster

Glass into another cranking lumpster.

Masked to thwart the Coronovirus

Secured by straps to keep them tight above the nose, secured just right.

Blue rubber gloves to keep hands clean,

One on the left, the other just right.

Now the task regularly performed

Is done and you are informed,

Sitting on our porch with Paula’s plants

Planted on our red cushioned chairs,

One newly sewn to be properly tied pairs.

Paula’s vase of flowers

Vases in a

“WORLD’S COLUMBIA EXHIBITION

CHICAGO 1893 Can

JOHN McCANN’S

STEEL CUT OATMEAL

Certificate of Award

UNIFORMITY OF GRANULATION

Approved by A.B. Critchfield,

President of Departmental Committee

Signed Chas. Keith, Individual Judge

Dated 28th June, 1894

Approved by John Boyd Thacher (Chairman Executive Committe of Awards)

NET WT. 28 OZ (1LB 12 OZ) 793g,

MCCANN’S FINEST OATMEAL

Irish Porridge into four cups of briskly boiling water sprinkle one cup of oatmeal, stirring well. When the porridge is boiling and beginning to thicken, reduce heat and simmer for thirty minutes, stirring occasionally.

Traditionally served with fresh buttermilk, Irish Porridge is also food with milk and cream or brown sugar or honey, or butter.

Outmeal is a low saturated fat, cholesterol free food and a good source of fiber. Contains 2g of total Fat per serving.

N.B. To ensure characteristic rich nutty flavor, avoid overcooking.

Ingredients: 100% whole grain Irish oats.

Product of Ireland

Odium Group

Naas, County Kildare. Ireland

Flowers inside the can include:

www.mccanns.le”

NO OYSTERS FOR SHABAAT

No oysters for Shabbat tonight

Jim O’Connell and Jimmy

Are too busy, for that’s our plight.

It’s his right food ror demand for them are at a height.

So many visitors, their guests, and even friends of their guests look forward to and delight in Wellflleet

and the oysters to look forward to to eat.

We’re sunning ourselves

at Powers Landing Beach

The wind pushing the waves as they reach

Too close, reaching our toes,

So we rose up

And moved our beach chairs further up the sand,

Nearer the deep brown wood wired picket fence,

Fencing off from wildlife and bird access.

As we moved our folding beach chairs

Mine blue, Martha’s red

Marian, eyes closed, remains on her red beach chair, red and blanket well secured behind her back.

Adam and Frances, bouncing on the waves

She rising and falling as the waves roll while on surfboard, braving the ride.

Adam next to her as she dives

into the water,

Still shallow enough for him to stand,

Now both swimming with the current strong at hand

Now Adam rides the surfboard,

Frances leading the way,

Now Frances with surfboard

As they both submerge then bounce up observing one to the other.

Martha proceeded on her long walk,

South along the beach,

2.2 miles her expectant reach,

The wind pushing her as she travels,

Returning north, against the wind

As the massive sails of sailboats in the harbor pitch at a thirty degree angle.

Frances raise her board to

beat Daddy on the head

Which he smilingly deflects.

The board escapes their reach

And Adam grips it,

Frances flipping over it with a shrill,

Solo soprano;

Higher than the baritonous waves.

Adam, Blue-shirted kicks the board forward

While red-shirted and long-sleeved Francis

Barrels after him.

Now Adam pushes

the surfboard forward

Then lifts Frances high as she screeches to the sky.

Now Frances is on board

And she and Adam wallowing in water together.

Martha returns from her walk

Reporting the tide is too high.

Now I proceed to the water Intending to board their board

if they let me.

Actually I waddle into the bay.

It is relaxing, I fool

Until the wind feels to cool,

And I return to the sun’s jewel.

Martha, Adam and Frances continue a long walk South along the beach.

I sit to read, but actually just sit

Enjoying this narrative reach.

All return from their walk

Not wearing my temporary glasses

I hear a sqwack to put them on.

So I reach into my green bag, take the glasses out, a pair but neither a monocile nor a pear.

To home, to rest and shower

As Martha removes sand

From the cover of my book.

THE VERY LARGEST TURKEY

I woke up about five -thirty this morning

And saw the very largest TURKEY

I had ever seen walking up the hill

Outside my window

And into the pine trees

And the maple trees beyond.

It wandered alone

No chicks followed

Probably a male searching

Searching for its mate.

A male turkey is called a TOM or a GOBBLER.

A female turkey is called a HEN.

Then

I went back to sleep

Not a peep from me

Not a gobble in my throat.

Now awake I elated at the passing.

Morning is here

And I look forward to shower.

ADAM AND FRANCES JOIN US FOR DINNER TONIGHT

Adam and Frances join us for dinner tonight.

Martha made swordfish and asparagus.

They arrive at 8:30 almost while typing this note. They’re not really late, arriving as we expected them to from home in Washington D.C.

Their arrival is capital to us as it is to the Nation, you see.

I’ve opened oysters, six each for Adam, Martha and me

And three for Granddaughter Frances,

Though we’re not certain that she tasted them previously.

But she may devour them easily,

Perhaps questioning first.

Or maybe in tears she will burst

To avoid them cursed.

She really is a happy-go-lucky kid

Who loves to don multiple necklaces

Which become her.

We look forward to a long stay

Though the Coronovirus averts day camp.

We had swordfish for dinner with asparagus and olive bread and for dessert, vanilla ice-cream and Chocolote-Mocha Ice cream.

Frances is very much grown up,

Articulate, verbally communicative, intelligent and engaged, commanding the dinner conversation with alacrity.

Dad, Adam, is patient, listens attentively and engages her enthusiasm and intelligent verbalism. She bounces to bed as active as ever.

OYSTERS and BEER SWEATS

Today I hope to purchase

a White Oyster and Beer sweater

Which should keep me warm

Even when I am not eating Oysters and drinking beer,

Usually Amstel’s Light

Which is light enough to lift

And drink from a bottle

Or pour into a glass

Better than Bass Ale to me.

Not a bass to fiddle

To Fiddle a little

Or diddle in a riddle.

Or dance a Cadrillo.

But not a Fiddler Crab either

Because I’m rarely crabby

Except when I’m mad,

Not insane, or moody,

But just sometimes angry.

Martha and I will need

To walk the town for my shopping

Walking not hopping

For I am not a Toad

Though I have towed sailboats

Through sand to water and back again.

It is a foggy day.

The temperature is 68 degrees out,

Friday, June 12, 2020 in Wellfleet

And the same date everywhere else.

Now off to see

The Wizard of Oyster and Beer Sweaters.

PYTHONS AND

BOA CONSTRICTORS

New York Science Times

Tuesday May 12, 2020

PP. D1 and D4

Photo: Feeding time in the converted garage where David and Amber Wilson keep a collection of Pythons and Boa Constrictors.

Exquisite photo of coiled white, black and yellow Boa Constrictor

“A TIP OF THE SCALES.”

Photographs by Wes Fraser for

The New York Times.

Article by Carl Zimmer,

Tuscaloosa, Alabama.

“The extreme metabolism of some snakes could offer hints for regenerating human tissue.

0n a cold gray winter day,

Stephen Sector

Pulled into the driveway

Of David and Amber Nelson

Into their converted basement,

Filled with stacks of refrigerator-size

Glass-doored cages.

Each door contained a massive snake.

Some of Nelson’s Pythons and

Boa Constrictors were recent adoptions

From Dr. Sector’s lab, a few miles to the west at The University of Alabama.

Dr. Secor and Mt. Nelson, a product manager at a local parts factory,

Hoisted the snakes, one at a time

Out of their cages.

“Hello, Monty, how’s by sweetheart?”

Dr. Secor asked a tan Burmese python as it slithered you his shoulders.

“Monty’s a good snake, aren’t you?”

It was feeding day. The snakes had not eaten for two weeks. They were now about to perform one of the most extraordinary acts of metabolism in the animal kingdom - a feat that Dr. Secor has been exploring for a quarter of a century.

He has been finding adaptations throughout the snake’s entire body, such as the ability to rapidly expand organs and to shrink them back down.

His findings offer tantalizing clues that May someday be applied to our own bodies as medical treatments.

Mr. Nelson opened the cage that held a Burmese python named Haydee, and heaved in a large rat. The rat stood frozen in the corner, but Haydee ignored her new roommate for several minutes. She slowly raised her metallic-colored head, indifferently flicking her tongue. And suddenly Haydee became a missile.

She shot across the cage, snagged the rat with her upper teeth and wrapped her thick midriff around the victim.

Behind Haydee’s coils, the upended rat was still visible, it’s back legs and tail jerking in the air. It heaved for a while with rapid breaths, then stopped.

Haydee loosened her grip and raised her head to the door, as if wondering if more rats were in the offing. Then she returned back to her prey, nose to nose, and opened her mouth wide. She used her side teeth to pull the head over the dead rodent. Her jaws stretched apart to make room, and she worked into her expanding throat.

She arched her head up toward the door. as if offering her human audience a chance to say farewell to the rat as its hind legs and tail slid into the esophagus.

But Hayden’s performance was far from over. Pythons and other kinds of snakes regularly eat a quarter of their body weight at once. Sometimes a meal will outweigh them. Over the next few days, they break their prey down and absorb almost all of it.”

(More text follows about Dr. Secor’s work.

the article and images, photographed and saved.)

SESAME LIME CHICKEN BREAST

New York Times Food Recipe

Martha cooked sesamevlime chicken breast tonight

A delight spiced well.

“Brining chickens in in a soy sauce and fish sauce marinade flecked with lime adds flavor and helps to retain moisture while they are on the grill. Chicken breasts do particularly well when pounded into an even thickness and coked quickly over an open fire, which chars the exterior but keeps them juicy inside. Serve these with a cucumber salad and grilled eggplant in the heart of the summer. MELISSA CLARK

Time: 30 minutes.

Yield: 4 servings.

4 (6- Ounce) boneless, skinless chicken breasts

2 tablespoons soy sauce

2 teaspoons Asian-style fish sauce

1 (2-inch) piece ginger, peeled and grated

3 garlic cloves grated

2 limes as needed

2 tablespoons peanut oil, more for grill

Sesame oil as needed

Coarsesly chopped cilantro, for garnish

Thinly sliced red or green chiles

Seeded for garnish (optional)

    Place chicken between two sheets of parchment or plastic wrap. Using a mallet or rolling pin, poun each to a even thickness of 1/2 inchIn a large bowl, whisk together soy sauce, fish sauce, ginger and garlic. Grate in zest of one lime and squeeze in its juice. Whisk in peanut oil. Place chicken breast Las in bowl and turn breasts well to evenly coat with mixture. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour and up to 4 hours. Remove chicken from fridge while you heat the grill.

    Light the grill, building a hot fire, or your gas grill to high. Once grill is fully heated, brush breasts lightly with peanut oil and place chicken on the grill. Cook until undersides are browned and chicken is about halfway cooked, 3 to 5 minutes.Flip breasts and grill until cooked through, 3 to 5 minutes more.Transfer chicken to a platter. Drizzle with sesame oil; garnish with lime juice and cilantro, and chiles if desired.

For more recipes, visit NYT Cooking

at nytcooking.com

COFFEE BEAN

“A COFFEE BEAN

(Is not as a has been. )

Its actually a seed

That people find much in need.

When dried, roasted and grown,

It’s used to brew coffee.

Certainly not a witch’s stew.

If the seed isn’t processed,

It can be planted and grow into a coffee tree .

For all to see.

Planting often takes place during the wet season

So that the soil remains while the roots become firmly established with good reason.

Hot coffee is brewed, not stewed

While Cappuccino

Flowing from ESPRESSO- DiLongi

Milked by Almond Milk

Becomes. hot to the taste, bud.

As partially quoted by Widipekia

(With apologies).

ALBERT THE WASHIG MACHINE REPAIRMAN

Today The Washing Machine Repairman

Albert

Knocked and came in to fix our washing machine,

Properly masked

Within ten minutes

He blew out the tube,

Quite the rube,

Pressed the on button

Suppressed the start button,

Color button already revolved.

He checked to see that the rotund porcelain glazed door opened after it

completed its cycle

One wheel, not like a bicycle.

It thankfully opened!

I closed again to finalize the wash.

The inside rotated

Close awash.

Properly remunerated

He departed

As I retreated

To shower,

After,

returning to read

Sir Thomas More’s

Ideal Connonwealths

Copyright 1901

By THE COLONIAL PRESS.

I am now at page 47

And will end at Page 416

UTOPIA EXPERIENCED!

SUN GROWING OUR FICUS TREE

The sun m fully shines into our twenty-four light window panel, facing east,

Teathering a feast , warming like toast

Orancular at most

Each leaf alternating to coast upwards

To embrace our nine foot high ceiling

Now shadowed.

There are seven Major branches..

<. <. < <. <. <. <

Armed with force, Major perforce,

General IN SALUTE.

Salutations to route the chosen march path,

And minor branches

That March even

In May.

Each branching littler branches

Enhancing their beleaf in life’s relief.

Each leaf is three and five eights long and

One and one-eighths inch wide at its widest.

The trunk is three inches in diameter

And

Forty-three inches

H

I

G

H

Overall horizontal spread is

E. I. G. H. T. Y I N C H E S.

The VASE Is twenty m-four inches in diameter and nineteen inches high including base.

Now to exercise with Martha,

Led by Dawn DeRow.

I SERVE AS THE SMILING REAPER

I serve as the Smiling Reaper

Not Grimm at all

But bouncy and flouncy

In Ralph Lauren flowing decorated red , blue and green wool woven jacket and wide trousers that flow like sails as I float, not gloat.

I don’t hold aloft a severe cutting sickle,

But a Shepard’s staff

To guide my sheep., humans, insects, snakes in the grass, mongooses climbing trees,

Lions and tigers, Oh My!

And snakes in the grass, or woods, or waterways.

As a Smiling Reaper,

I have lots of friends.

They smile back

Knowing, not subject to attack.

I reap the harvest of parents, sons, daughters and Otters.

Sharks don’t attack me,

Larks sing in joy,

I raise no scythe to unfasten their fatty.

My scythe gets rusty floating in a pond.

I won’t need it, no longer fond,

Maybe another will find it

Pole unattached.

Metal to be melted for a silver necklace to wear.

Handle to warm in a fire,

A family old and cold.

The smiling reaper

Wishes all a good night

To fold in bed

And reap a sound sleep.

ONLY ONE SAILBOAT SAILING

Only observed white sailed sailboat in the distance sailing,

And three anchored

Wailing to flow in the bay once mo..

“ Manning a sailboat is a lot of work. They mess around a loot!

“I’m with you,” the other woman agrees, still sitting on her beach chair, striped reds, grey and oranges

Her beach umbrella has 10 blue stripes recedes by to the top,

And 109 white horizontal stripes als receding in size ro the top.

Sabrne, Russell and Amy are in the medium tided water

and I,

Sun-tanned, motioned that I will join them.

Russell starts singing in joy.

Amy observes fish jumping up as women are swimming.

Fish are strong to jump out of the water.

A school of Bluefish popped out of the water.

What grade in school are they?

Russell and Sabine conttiue to throw rocks into the water.

There is not a cloud in the sky

All the sky is a light blue, without

White clouds to the the southwest

As the sun persists dropping

at 4:25 PM.

Russsell sings as he places found shells onto his seat.

Now home, he showers first.

I say use shampoo and soap and he says, “I won’t,” then does.