Wayne F Burke

Smother's Beach, Key West

sun warm on my skin and

white sand, tan people

pale green ocean, the

mother--we crawled out of

flipper-wise

to establish ourselves

on top the food chain, first

lying low

until the Dinosaurs, running amuck, ate

themselves into arterial heart disease and

stroke, and

then we crawled out from our holes and

from beneath stones...

Class "mammalia,"

and evolved--

so the story goes,

to present day

ergonomics

and the triumph of

the morons

in the time of Thump.

George

on a park bench a guy

with Moses-beard

pork pie hat

and tie-dye shirt--

a follower of Thoreau perhaps

walking to the beat of a different drummer;

not Max Roach

maybe Ringo Starr, the

"dumb" Beetle.

My sister favored George; 

she came out of her room

which she rarely left, and

sat in front of the television set

February 9, 1964

the night the Beetle's played

to a crowd of screaming people

on the Ed Sullivan Shew...

My sister screamed too

and pulled her hair as

over-fed Uncle Al, in an

overstuffed chair, smirked--

Grandma told Sister not to act

so foolishly, but

Sister did not listen

or else did not care;

she beat her palms on the

linoleum floor while

my brother and I sat like stones

on the imitation-leather couch

in the rear.

5 Days of Fog

and rain

the camouflaged ocean waves

rolling in to shore

in a steady

rorarsch!

The sun has gone

from the world;

this hotel room two shades

of green;

I am going to float

out of here soon

and go back

home to the

Northland

where the sun don't shine

either.

The Knowner

my sister in a teak box

red & shiny

on a table

below a cross

that the man of sorrow

hung from:

she stroked-out and

went into a coma

and never came out 

and now she is in

"a better world,"

a woman in the

receiving line tells

me...

"I hope so," I respond.

The woman says

"I know so."

Her eyes wide open

behind bifocals--

thin face with skin

tightly stretched

over her skull...

How does she know?

I do not ask, and

The Knower

moves on.