Mike

Dogs, as we know, are wonders of the world

So steadfast and loving and strong

We’re all better beings because of our pets

They enrich us our entire life long

Our family dog Mike was an Irish Setter

He’d belonged to our neighbor Lew Reed

But Mike only wanted to be with us kids

As sad as he felt, Lew agreed

Mike was a part of our family from the start

He’d lead us through the forest on hikes

He loved to chase the sticks that we threw

And he ran as we raced on our bikes

Our family would boat up the river

With six there was no room for Mike

He’d paddle behind the boat as we rowed

For a mile or more if we’d like

Each summer Mike fought with a porcupine

He’d be full of quills in the yard

The vet did his best to be gentle

Pulling quills from one’s nose is quite hard

One year in the middle of April

Mike ventured out onto the river

He fell through the ice in the water

We watched him and felt our hearts quiver

My mother told us to stay in the house

She crawled on the ice to our pet

She dragged Mike out by the scruff of his neck 

Such courage I’ll never forget

My grandfather figured Mike needed a pal

In Florida he bought a new setter

Micki was sent to Menominee by train

We found that two dogs were still better

Mike of course was the Alpha dog

He taught Mick the rules of life

First and foremost, no poops on the lawn

Besides that, there wasn’t much strife

But one day the dogs did get into a spat

My mother jumped in to intervene

We never knew who tore the gash in her arm

But it wound up a most bloody scene

Mike lived till I’d gone off to college

He died of a stroke in our yard

Our parents grieved and so did we kids

I’d never known anything so hard

I dug Mike’s grave in the field out back

I cried the entire time

Our family held a funeral of sorts

We’d lost a companion sublime

Mike was the heart of my growing up

He taught many lessons in living

How to be playful and loyal and kind

Most of all, the true value of giving

What Is Life Like Exactly?

Life is a lot like a movie

A beginning, a middle, an end

The beginning is more or less groovy

But I’d say the end’s where you mend

My childhood was much like a Three Stooges short     

Curly bopping poor Moe on the bean         

Our parents did their best to give us support

But we children thought it fun to be mean

My teen years were more like those Beach Party flicks

Frankie A. and Annette Funicello

Knuckle-headed guys and bikini-clad chicks

It’s too bad I was such a shy fellow

In college I acted out pure John Belushi

All-night poker and free-flowing beer

We ate cold pizza and Japanese sushi

It’s amazing I found a career

My thirties were mostly a comedy horror story

The zombies lived right down the hall

Conflicts at work often bordered on gory

I tried to stay out of the brawl

Middle age became a film noir mystery

Charlie Chan or maybe Sam Spade

I struggled to make sense of my personal history

And feared that my dreams were to fade

My sixties were more like a slow British pic          

The scenes were offbeat and quirky               

I showed up for work and played out my shtick

I was lucky my spouse was more perky

Retirement has been a song and dance show

Ginger Rogers and vintage Astaire

Their dancing technique was to go with the flow

And treat life as a glamorous affair

This year seems most like a travelogue

I take classes at UC through OLLI

We learn everything about Paris or Prague

But the poems are what keep us jolly

Twelve Little Ducklings

Twelve little ducklings standing in a row

One of them wears Gucci shoes

The others have no dough

Eleven little ducklings are caught in a tsunami

One duck says, “This is such fun” 

The others think he’s balmy

Ten little ducklings are stopped by the police

One duck says she’s innocent 

The rest claim they are geese

Nine little ducklings are visiting the pope

One duck fails to genuflect

The rest say, “What a dope” 

Eight little ducklings decide that they should pout

One says she is happy

The others punch her snout

Seven little ducklings smoke some heavy drugs

One receives the voice of God

The rest see five-foot bugs

Six little ducklings bow to the Dalai Lama

One duck says, “He is so wise” 

The rest say, “So’s your Mama”

Five little ducklings go riding on their oxen

One gets aches in all his joints

The others take Naproxen

Four little ducklings visit Miss Bo Peep

One plays games with Bo Peep’s dog

The others chase her sheep

Three little ducklings move to Guatemala

One duck studies ancient scripts

The rest read the Kabbalah

Two little ducklings stay in Cincinnati

One has Graeter’s ice cream

The other a goetta patty

One little duckling sits atop the wall

At twelve o’clock he falls to earth

No ducklings left at all

I Wish I Could Sleep Like A Sheepdog

I haven’t slept well for a dozen years

The reasons are vague and mysterious

Bad sleep taps into my primitive fears

I’m scared that I’ll soon be delirious

I used to think it was due to the noise

The sirens whiz by on our street

But noise doesn’t seem to bother the boys     

Their sleep is so deep it’s a treat

The sheepdogs retire at nine o’clock         

Twelve years old, they’re both getting creaky           

I hoist each one up like an eighty-pound rock

I hope they don’t view me as geeky

In bed the dogs are a pleasing sight

They’re such an adorable pack

Mike’s handsome head is snowy white

While Duffy’s right ear is jet black

Mike’s forty inches from nose to tail

And Duffy’s exactly the same             

The bed’s seventy-eight from rail to rail

Such small space for dogs is a shame

The humans climb in with a sense of dread

Katja lies on her side on a slant

I scrunch up my knees with my feet off the bed

The dogs would make room but they can’t

  

Duffy then rests his head on my calf

While Mike leans on top of my back

So heavy and warm I’m prompted to laugh

Though I feel like I’m pinned to a rack

The dogs begin dreaming at two a.m.

They’re chasing the squirrels on the lawn

Their legs are twitching at a high r.p.m.

These dreams keep on going till dawn

Our room often smells like dog perfume

Especially when fur’s wet from rain          

Sometimes a dog makes a gaseous fume

We stop breathing and pray it will wane

Thankfully the dogs don’t bark through the night           

Instead they make whimpers and moans

It’s hard tell if it’s sadness or fright

With dogs there are lots of unknowns

In closing, insomnia’s a mystery

The sheepdogs sleep perfectly fine

We share the same bed, the same history

I’ll have to start drinking more wine

The Pearly Gates

I dreamt I was standing at the Pearly Gates

Getting in was a very long wait

Millions of spirits arrive every day

It’s a chore to decide each one’s fate

I wasn’t quite sure how they did things

But from everything I could tell

You meet St. Peter and he decides

If you’re headed for Heaven or Hell

When I got to the gate I pressed the bell

Two angels welcomed me in

They gave me a ten-page form and said

To list all my good deeds and sin

I had some trouble in the Good Deeds part

Even though I went through my whole life

I take out the garbage on Monday nights

But I leave all the rest to my wife

I had more success when I got to Part Two

A list of my sins filled ten pages

I teased and tortured my brother for years

And I told blatant lies at all ages

St. Peter came in the moment I finished

I would say he is six feet two

With a long white beard, a halo, a robe

And a fairly bedraggled hairdo

I watched St. Peter as he scoured my list

Each page he got more of a frown

He looked at the sky and he shook his head

My heart stopped when he pointed straight down

Your score, said St. Peter, is a minus nine

But for Heaven one needs a plus six

He led me to an elevator near the door

Pressed the button for the River Styx

As the elevator dropped, I woke from my dream

Relieved that I still have some time

I’ll start my good deeds in a week or two

And I plan to record each in rhyme

The Three Little Pigs Revisited

The Mother:

Once upon a time in a land far away

A mother raised three little pigs

She took them aside one bright summer day

“It’s time that you have your own digs”

The First Little Pig:

My mother told me to build my own house

That sounds like very hard work

I’d rather play hopscotch and eat boiled grouse         

That wolf ‘s just a big dopey jerk

The easiest plan is a house made of straw

I can build that in less than an hour

That straw will get stuck in the bad wolf's craw

This piglet he’ll never devour

The Wolf:

That lazy little pig is a small-time goof

About wolves he doesn’t know beans

With two big puffs I’ll blow down his roof

And eat him with couscous and greens

So he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down and he ate up the first little pig

The Second Little Pig:

The second little pig made his house out of sticks

To avoid the cruel fate of his brother

But the big bad wolf saw through all of his tricks

“This pig will be tastier than the other”

And he huffed and puffed and he blew the house down and he ate the second little pig

The Third Little Pig:

That big old wolf is one scary dude

He can knock down a house with his breath

I’ll have to be very piggy shrewd

So that wolf cannot put me to death

I’m going to build my new house very strong

Maybe iron or copper or brick

To build it that strong will take very long

But that brick will make my walls thick

The Wolf:

Here is another ridiculous pig

Bricks can't stop a huge wolf like me

I'll eat this pig with a parsley sprig

And maybe a glass of chablis

And he huffed and he puffed and he huffed some more but the brick house stood strong.

Epilogue:

The wolf went home and ate pebbles and twigs

Then he gave an enormous burp

Out of his mouth popped the two little pigs

“So long, Mister Wolf, you’re a twerp!”

And the three little pigs in their thick brick house lived happily ever after

Menominee River Pantoums: 3. Winter

Chipmunks gathered fruit from the cedar

The north winds blew in with a squall

My mother fed birds at her feeder

The snowdrifts grew massive and tall

The north winds blew in with a squall

The deer stopped to munch the dried weeds

The snowdrifts grew massive and tall

Tiny chickadees searched for their seeds

The deer stopped to munch the dried weeds

The whole of the forest seemed dead

Tiny chickadees searched for their seeds

I tramped through the woods with my sled

The whole of the forest seemed dead

We fished through the ice on the river

I tramped through the woods with my sled

The wind from the bay made us shiver

We fished through the ice on the river

The icicles stretched to the ground

The wind from the bay made us shiver

The night sky was black with no sound

The icicles stretched to the ground

My dad cut down a tall spruce

The night sky was black with no sound

My mother cooked ham and a goose

My dad cut down a tall spruce

Our cousins arrived Christmas eve

My mother cooked ham and a goose

I played checkers with Peter and Steve

Our cousins arrived Christmas eve

We followed deer tracks in the snow

I played checkers with Peter and Steve

The fireplace gave off its glow

We followed deer tracks in the snow

By March the ice started to melt

The fireplace gave off its glow

The river was teeming with smelt

By March the ice started to melt

We called it Chinese Bells Day

The river was teeming with smelt

The skies were milky and gray

We called it Chinese Bells Day

A robin appeared on the lawn

The skies were milky and gray

Spring opened her eyes with a yawn

A robin appeared on the lawn

Chipmunks gathered fruit from the cedar

Spring opened her eyes with a yawn

My mother fed birds at her feeder

Menominee River Pantoums: 2. River House

We moved to the river in forty-six

There were no other children nearby

The field was home to horseflies and ticks

At dusk we could hear the loons cry

There were no other children nearby

We lived on a long gravel road           

At dusk we could hear the loons cry

My grandfather built our abode

We lived on a long gravel road

The oaks were sixty feet high

My grandfather built our abode 

It opened to the river and the sky

The oaks were sixty feet high

Our house was of Norway pine

It opened to the river and the sky

Close friends came to talk and to dine

Our house was of Norway pine

My mother cooked whitefish and liver

Close friends came to talk and to dine

Mallard ducks flew in on the river

My mother cooked whitefish and liver

We didn’t have locks on our doors

Mallard ducks flew in on the river

Four foot snakes lived under our floors

We didn’t have locks on our doors

We climbed up the willow tree

Four foot snakes lived under our floors

My sister got stung by a bee

We climbed up the willow tree

We played on our basketball court

My sister got stung by a bee

In the woods I built my own fort

We played on our basketball court

We had acorn fights in the yard

In the woods I built my own fort

Swimming the river was hard

We had acorn fights in the yard

We shot cans with the twenty-two

Swimming the river was hard

The dogs got deer bones to chew

We shot cans with the twenty-two

My mother grew violets and lilies

The dogs got deer bones to chew

We children fell prey to the willies

My mother grew violets and lilies

The trillium bloomed in the spring

We children fell prey to the willies

My dad built my sister a swing

The trillium bloomed in the spring

The field held horseflies and ticks

My dad built my sister a swing

We moved to the river in forty-six