IDA'S VENGEANCE

Vaccination Blues

The Hellhound of Pike County, Kentucky

Quicksand Terrors

Pandemiciana

Crusty Old Guy Triolets

                 Eighty-Three

My eighty-third birthday to me was a fright

Who could imagine I’d still be around? 

The perils of old age still leave me uptight 

My eighty-third birthday to me was a fright

Though reaching eight decades I’ve done something right

Thanks to whiskey and Miltown I’m still above ground 

My eighty-third birthday to me was a a fright

Who could imagine I’d still be around? 

Loneliness

 

All my friends have gone away 

A fact that leaves me lonely 

No chums left with whom to play  

All my friends have gone away

I wake each morn to loss, dismay

Finding myself only 

All my friends have gone away

A fact that leaves me lonely 

The Worst Idea  

This is the worst idea of all 

Each hour that we’re here, one hour closer to death

The very thought of it casts a dark pall 

This is the worst idea of all

The truth is we need to confront our downfall

Every creature on earth has to breathe their last breath 

This is the worst idea of all

Each hour that we’re here, one hour closer to death

Polymalgia Rheumatica 

I wake each morn in abject pain 

My arms, my legs, my shoulders, my spine

To walk ten steps, a cruel strain

I wake each morn in abject pain

By afternoon I’ve made some gain 

My knees, surprise, now feel just fine

I wake each morn in abject pain

My arms, my legs, my shoulders, my spine

Too Many Docs  

It seems like I go to a doctor each week

The lung doc, the heart doc, the skin doc and more 

My body’s turned into a creaky antique

It seems like I go to the doctor each week

Each visit I’m sure that my prospects are bleak  

But the doc always says he finds life in my core

It seems like I go to the doctor each week 

The lung doc, the heart doc, the skin doc, and more 

Covid Chit Chat

Cooped up forever, it’s driving me insane 

I have to get out, maybe go to a store 

A store?  What store?  And go there what for?   

Please shelter in place, stick with the campaign

But we're out of pickles and cottage cheese 

And I’ve barely one six-pack of Coke 

Coca-cola, pickles, is this a bad joke?

The store is Grand Central for killer disease   

I'll wear my new mask, it’s bulletproof protection

Stay six feet away, no kisses, no hugs

Just keep this in mind, no vaccines, no drugs 

They've no way of taming this demon infection 

Being scared of a germ isn’t my cup of tea 

Since when have you been such a sissy? 

I'll tell you a thing or two, Missy
So sad but we oldies no longer are free

Well I’m going to the store and that's that

I was thinking that maybe you'd drive me there 

O.K., holy moly, I don’t even care 

Anything to wind up this god-awful spat 

So pleased you've decided to see things my way

Already you’ve made this a non-COVID day 

(And out the door they went, hand in hand) 

Now What?

These masks are making me edgy

Are those my neighbors or crooks?   

The world has lost half its smiles   

And where are the pretty girls’ looks?  

And what about staying apart?

Six feet may, in fact, be too little

No handshakes, no hugs, no touches

Connections are tattered and brittle

We’ve lost many good things in life 

Imprisoned as we are in our house  

The germs are the guards for this jail 

At least I’m locked up with my spouse 

Will this be the plot for the rest of our days?

Can we have any hope we'll defeat the malaise?

Ear Wax Terrors

I’ll tell you of a ghastly experience  

It came as a hair-raising shock

Like marooned in the wastes of Antartica

Or entombed by a large granite rock

I asked Dr Z about ear wax

He peered in my ears, left and right

“Yep, you’ve got plenty of wax,” he said

His nurse would take care of the blight 

The nurse squeezed hot liquid in each of my ears

Then she switched on her vacuum device

Whoosh, the wax popped from my left ear

But my right ear she had to do twice

I didn’t hear well as I drove the car home

My left ear, I’d say, was okay

But then I discovered, my right ear — stone deaf

Mere words can’t describe my dismay

I worried the wax had simply gone deeper  

The surgeon might slice through my head 

Perhaps my eardrum was suctioned out

That part of my brain was now dead

I called the office in dire panic

“Try peroxide in your ear,” said the doc

“If it’s not any better by Friday

“Come back in at eleven o’clock”

My wife took the job as my medical aide

Each morning she filled up my ear

I still couldn’t hear a word of NPR

I returned to the doc, full of fear

           

The nurse said she thought that my wax now looked softer

She swished and she swushed and a big chunk came out

My ear, my life, was miraculously saved

So pleasing to hear myself shout

The eeriest feeling is being stone deaf

Even if it’s only one ear

I’d lost all connection with the world’s right side

Many things on my right I hold dear 

Beasts of the Night

The close of dusk, I lit my fire

Moonless and darkening

though the crown of evergreen branches

spread its design across the gray-blue sky

Burning pine logs crackled and spit

shooting out sparks which spun to the grass

then flickered and disappeared

By nine o’clock the world had turned pitch black

I called my wife on my cell phone

and told her it was eery, even scary

The park was deserted, no lights, no sounds

A good stomping ground for rural thugs or killers

Just then, a growling noise

I looked to my right

and saw two pairs of eyes

glowing red from the firelight

Then black masks, white snouts, pointy ears

A pair of large raccoons 

side by side, standing at attention

thirty feet away, staring at me

I felt my heart pounding

“Get out of here!” I screamed

“Get out of here!”

“Get out of here!”

So loud I even frightened myself

But the raccoons stood their ground

My wife said over the phone

“When raccoons growl they are rabid”

“Please get in the car, please lock the doors”

A third raccoon appeared

around the edge of the picnic table.

“Get away, get away!” I shouted

clenching my fists, nails digging into my palms

But he too stood unperturbed

knowing his raccoon family owned the campground 

I got up from my chair, retreated to my tent

pulled the zipper tight, tied it shut with a twist tie

I heard pots and pans clanging

A box of kitchen stuff crashed to the ground

And then eventually quiet

Later the beasts of the night

wandered in and out of my dreams

The Fall

Leaving the liquor store

one arm clutching the bourbon

two wine bottles in the other

my shoe caught the cement

and I landed face-first

on the edge of the concrete curb

Thanks to my protection

the bottles survived the crash landing

My unguarded face, not nearly as well

My spouse was in shock

Volunteers came running

helped me to my feet

My glasses, broken in two, lay on the ground

My face a bloody mess

At home I looked in the mirror

A ragged cut on the bridge of my nose

Bloody abrasions on my nose, cheek, and lip

Soon dark black bruising circled both eyes

Anxious, in pain, a mess

but after three days I decided I would be o.k. 

Even so, my connection to the world feels changed

Life is more precarious

More subject to the vagaries of random chance 

I find myself walking self-consciously

Apprehensive, vulnerable

My nose and eyes have nearly recovered

but my psyche is progressing more slowly 

Life In Our Neighborhood: A "Found" Poem (from NextDoorClifton.com)

Hello beautiful neighbors of mine!

Anyone need anything

I’m Available!

I need help in my garden.  Muscles!

Ms. Birkenleoux has been located…

Cliftonites are cool

Feeling worried 

Bad odor in the air

Loud booms

what happened on Kirby Ave? 

Did you mistakenly swipe my trash bin?

WHERE SHOULD I CALL IF I NEED THE POLICE? 

Anyone have a torque wrench?

Interest in cheap Russian/Ukrainian tutor

Looking to buy a $500 car

Piece of scrap wood? 

need to borrow a manual wheelchair

Looking for a Goat to Rent

Lost Kitty?

Still looking

Mr. Stripes

Sorry Sad Little Cat 

Dead orange and white kitty cat on the I74 exit to Colerain

Farewell to Good Cat Stan 1998-2017

The park was trashed!

drug deal on Edna Ave

gunshots

home burglarized in broad daylight

serial purse snatcher on/around Ludlow

Warning: man exposing himself in public

What type of tree is this?

Large bird

Let me ask you something

Help my mom please

Clifton neighbors are the best

Moving

Inner Walls

My inner walls are crumbling

I can feel them straining in the dark of night

Or at the movie house

when some fleeting image on the screen

sparks a latent memory

and it spurts right out

stabbing at my throat and chest

I utter an involuntary sigh

and my wife whispers

“What’s the matter?”

and I shake my head

pretending I didn’t hear  

There is a secret room

at the back of my brain

that I have used since infancy

to bury certain thoughts and feelings

Painful happenings

Embarrassments

Distressingly stupid acts

A lie I once told to a girl

How I nearly harmed my two-year-old

The time I nearly killed us all on the turnpike

Past moments of agony and regret 

Locked away, sealed off

But now in my penultimate years

my arteries are brittle

and this room has gotten so crowded

so packed with refuse

that the walls are starting to crack

or even burst wide open

At first I tried desperately 

to hold them together

But now I’ve come to realize

that maybe I should let the bad stuff out 

Poke at it, massage it 

Turn it this way and that

To accept the whole package

Warts, pustules, and all

A Cruise From Hell: A Rondel*

A South Pacific cruise so sweet

Until an ugly brawl broke out

A girl’s flip-flop caused a lout 

To push and kick and curse and beat

This wilding family, such conceit 

They prowled the decks to scream and shout

A South Pacific cruise so sweet

Until an ugly brawl broke out 

The staff attacked in white hot heat

Heads were hammered, men knocked about

Families frightened fled the rout 

Officials made arrests discreet 

A South Pacific cruise so sweet

   *News source: ”’Brawl family’ clashed with staff,” www.news.com.au, Feb. 22, 2018

Bombs Are On My Mind

              Hiroshima

          August 6, 1945

      the first atomic bomb

80,000 people died in place.

We learned about the A-bomb in our Weekly Reader. 

Harry Truman, Miss Zellinger said,

saved America from destruction.

She taught us about the 

peace-time wonders of atomic energy.

But what stuck in our child-minds —

the firestorms destroying all life on Earth.  

Fourth grade, we had monthly atomic bomb drills

First, we put away all pencils and erasers. 

Then we hid our heads under our desks.

No one understood just why.  

Deeny-Boy thought

maybe radiation can’t go through wood. 

The nineteen-fifties, the superpower arms race.

In my U.P. hometown many believed

we were a likely target of a Russian A-bomb.

From high in the sky, the elders said, we were easily mistaken for

the St. Lawrence Seaway.

If the Russian bombers were off by only a smidgeon…

So long, Menominee County!

My father and Uncle Lars came to a decision.

Our family needed  an @&%*#! atomic bomb shelter.

So, in the basement of my grandfather’s drugstore

they outfitted our room.    

Canned foods, bottled water, graham crackers,

plates and silverware, dish towels, Brillo pads,

flashlights, matches and candles,

extra underwear and socks,

pillows, towels, blankets,

empty paper bags,

comic books, crossword puzzles,

and lastly a portable toilet.

Uncle Lars argued strongly that we needed rifles

in case the townspeople

tried to force their way into our space.  

My father was ambivalent about

killing our neighbors.

So they never did bring in the rifles.

Skip ahead a few years.

My wife and I, students in Ann Arbor.

October 22^nd, 1962, the Cuban Missile crisis.

Nuclear war in the offing.

We were dangerously close to Detroit, a prime target.

Fear, cold sweats.

We thought about driving to the U.P.

to our family bomb shelter.

But then I remembered 

the St. Lawrence Seaway

so we hunkered down with our dog.

Many decades passed

and I almost forgot about atomic bombs.

But now we have a president

who threatens nuclear war with North Korea.

From the air Cincinnati could easily be mistaken for Detroit.

Or Pittsburgh.

Or Cleveland.

   

And we don’t have a family bomb shelter any more.

But at least I learned how to

hide my head under

my desk.