13-11
Always on Sunday
I feed my baby eggs in bed,
he has me for dessert.
We read the funnies in front of the fan
and spend the day inert.
There are days more productive
when things really do get done,
but Sundays are seductive.
Yeah, Sundays are for fun.
We pull the phone loose from the wall,
throw the front page out,
tell the Jehovahs to take a hike
the neighbors not to shout.
Most days you make arrangements.
Some days you scheme and plan.
These things create estrangements
between a woman and her man.
So, forget the doctor's sage advice.
Forget cholesterol.
Feast on romance's extravagances
and, happy Sundays all.
by Tracy Koretsky
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If you printed out even half the stuff Tracy Koretsky has written, dumped it into a big net strung out across the ceiling, stood beneath, then let it drop, you would suffocate. Pile up the stuff that has been published and stand on top of it and you could probably reach the cookie jar on the uppermost shelf. Alas. Still, more than anything, Tracy loves to be read. Help yourself to audio poems and chapters, author interviews, and a download of her memoir in poems. www.TracyKoretsky.com
13-10
To Coffee (On Drinking the Day's First Cup)
Oh first delicious cup of coffee
On this morning dark and frosty
how your caffeine jolt delights me
screams in my veins!
Dark berry of Columbian tree
I sing you paens!
They tell me I should let you be
Because caffeine is bad for me.
They say to drink decaf coffee
will keep me cool.
Better to live with nerves all jumpy
than snore and drool.
We who drink the high test stuff
Can wing it well right off the cuff.
We'll take you on and call your bluff
and not back down.
Morning time won't find us gruff
with deadly frown.
A mug of java in the hand,
Yuppie blends or national brand,
Steaming, rich from tropic land,
all hot and black.
Not that weak stuff, washed out, bland
Midwestern slack.
What if our blood pressure's high?
We're quick of step and bright of eye,
our nerves all trigger sharp and spry.
We've got the edge
On dowdy folk who warn and cry
and take the pledge.
I've seen coffee drinkers go
Into a quiet room, and though
Others whisper and talk slow
they shoot the breeze,
Their words rush forth, bubble and flow
with greatest ease.
I've seen them at espresso bars
Drinking latte at all hours.
The double-cappuccino stars
drink even more.
What amazing gifts and powers!
They're real hard core.
When the Lord finished creation
And stepped down from His high work station
To take well-earned one day vacation,
it's well I know
He grabbed his cup, and with elation
drank some strong joe!
by Steve Klepetar
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Steve Klepetar claims to be the best known Shanghai-born Jewish-American poet in all of Central Minnesota who has written a dissertation on Sir Walter Scott (no, he didn't play Scottie in Star Wars—look him up). His work has appeared widely and has received several nominations for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, which his father-in-law would have told him would get him on the subway as long as he had a token.
13-9
Haiku
old Issa
drunk on haiku
stumbles in moonlight
by Ed Higgins
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Ed Higgins and his wife live on a small farm south of Portland, OR with a menagerie of animals including two whippets, two manx barn cats (who don't care for the whippets), an emu named To & Fro, and a pair of male alpacas named Machu & Picchu. His poems and short fiction appear in various print and online journals.
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