LAST NIGHT ON PLANET EARTH

“in case of rapture this car will be unmanned”

- bumper sticker from the 70’s

Instead of going to the family’s New Year’s Eve party

they laid in bed, under the covers watching fireworks

on TV as the Millennium arrived across the time zones.

He waited for confused computers to cause malfunctions,

havoc, mass destruction- maybe the end of the world.

Number two was about to appear in the thousands place,

catchy slogans, media hype, a wave of fear, but in the end,

there was no end. Just a basement filled with generators,

flashlights, firearms, fuel, rolls of duct tape, cases of water,

cans of tuna, and boxes of granola bars bought from Costco.

This time, roadside billboards quoting scripture went up,

messages swirled across the internet, people at work felt

a need to talk about it, radio shows called in the experts.

Somehow, he began to consider, maybe the end is near?

Last night, he was all alone, but took himself out to dinner.

Feeling like a death row inmate from the movies, he ordered

a Philly cheese steak with fried onions that filled his plate and

he had no worries of cholesterol levels or high blood pressure.

As he shook on the salt, he admired the difference in the flavor.

He sipped his Diet Coke and said a prayer for all he’d been given.

IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS

His little cave of an office was made darker

by oak paneling from the Seventies, flickering

fluorescent lights framed in water damaged

ceiling panels and battleship gray carpeting.

Papers, catalogues, manuals sat on top of

the refrigerator, shelves, cabinets, and in piles

on hit beat up old brown desk. A tired man,

he sighs deeply when he looks around his place.

And people wonder why I don’t take vacations,

is what he says as I stare at a dusty stuffed marlin.

When I tell him about how my father passed away

just a few years ago, he becomes silent and must’ve

wondered if it really mattered if his body shop was

open next week or if he was in the Florida Keys.

A WORLD WITHOUT TUITION

I hope one day to turn on my television and

hear on CNN that Congress passed a new law,

but I’m still waiting for it to happen. I mentioned

it a time or two, I even wrote a poem about it.

I imagined what it’d be like to make education free

to those who wanted to study, to learn, to achieve.

What if they thought of a way to reward those

who want to work, who want to apply themselves?

Wouldn’t it be easy enough for a Senator to say-

Hey, let’s find a way to make going to college free?

And then they could compromise, argue, and debate

before most of them agreed to let the people reach

their full potential. Allow them? No, empower them

to take care of themselves, their children, and families.

Of course, there'd be a catch, a hitch, a pact, a prerequisite.

In exchange for tuition free advanced college degrees,

scholars must make a promise, must sign an exemption.

Upon graduation they must vow to not look for, expect,

ask, or demand Food Stamps, Medicare, Social Security,

subsidized healthcare, low income housing or free cheese.

Instead they'd have to be on their own and live their lives

as independent thinkers, responsible law abiding citizens, and

contributors to our society-socially, emotionally,economically.

IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS

Sometimes I wake up and hear the birds singing.

I wonder if others know how early they begin.

After checking the clock, I try to go back to sleep.

I know my two alarms will go off soon and the dog

will start his whining, the sounds mean “time to eat”.

The cat will begin poking at me and walking on me.

A strange little creature that seems to understand

how to apply pressure in order to get me out of bed.

But before my feet hit the floor, I pause each day and

say -“What day is it today?” and “Where am I going?”

I stop by the window at the top of the stairs.

I part the blinds to see if it’s raining or if it is windy.

A strange routine for me and the two pets, I think as I go

to the bathroom, as I open the back door, as I make coffee.

I reach for the purple containers; I pour pet food into bowls.

My son is still in bed for a little while longer and when I

check on him, he looks the way he did when he was a baby.

It seems the days pass by quickly and I end up at this point

each morning, leaning against the wall, waiting for the coffee

to finish, for the last drop, thinking how I'm doing alright now.

STILL FALLING

We laugh about it now, remembering the time-

hiking in the Smoky Mountains to the little falls

tucked away on a ridge behind rhododendrons,

laurels, moss covered rocks, and crooked pines.

It’s the trail where we saw the salamanders, snails,

and where a nervous black bear saw the two of us.

You needed to get back to the parking lot, to use

the restroom on a hill at the edge of the parking lot.

You insisted on running, you were warned to stop.

I called out to you, but you kept going, feeling it

worth the risk, you looked fleet of foot on the path,

a mini Davy Crockett, a modern day Daniel Boone.

It was all good until your toe stubbed one of the roots

or jagged rocks and it sent you flying for a moment

before you landed on all fours and began to cry pitifully.

Scraped palms and knees, not the last time, for sure.

“It could have been worse”, is what my father said.

And it was enough to make you listen, to slow you down.

IT'S THE SAME OLD SONG

We yell now and then, when the music

from his room is too loud, too obnoxious,

too offensive- strong language and themes.

I ask him the question asked by all fathers

to their sons and daughters about the music-

Do you actually like listening to those songs?

I ask him what happened to the rock music.

Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Queen, Ac-Dc, U2.

We’d listen together as went on our road trips

.

He tells me, “That was your music, this is mine.

I listened to it because I was a follower then.”

Now he’s his own person, with his own choices.

A CHANGE IN PRAYERS

I used to ask for things when I prayed.

I prayed for the Eagles to win the Super Bowl.

I prayed for first place in the Spelling Bee.

I prayed for fame and fortune in Hollywood.

I prayed to marry some hot chick from TV.

I prayed to be able to travel to the great cities

of the world- London, Paris, Tokyo, Rome.

I prayed for the bright lights of Broadway.

I prayed for a big mansion with a swimming pool.

I prayed for more things, like a black Corvette.

My prayers have changed so much since I was a boy.

Decades later, I stopped asking for things in my prayers.

Instead I pray to thank God for my health, my job,

my little house, my education, and a car that works.

I thank him for my loving wife, an exceptional son,

and for never having to go without a meal or drink.

I thank him for a couple of weeks at the beach,

so that I may sit for a while and look at the ocean.

I thank him for a week in the mountains with my boy,

for the moments when we stop take a deep breath.

I thank him for my big brown chair, gray sweatshirts,

books that come in the mail and Willie Nelson songs.

I thank the Lord for sunny days and baseball games

with cold beers and cheese steaks with fried onions.

And now that I think about it, there is one thing

that I do ask for when I pray-I ask for time, more time

to be here with my family to enjoy all I’ve been given.