Net Worth

Bonfires on the beach
send their sparks flying
exciting the nighttime stars.

And their jealousy
reflecting on the sparkling water
is bringing the town to life.

The smelt are running
and if you own a net
you’re already in the water.

Your waders offer little protection
against cold possessive Superior
who is fighting to keep her fish.

Yet washtubs are filling
with tiny flopping silver
that you knife open upon the spot.

And their jealousy
brings the empty net fishermen
to your smoking charcoal grill.

Where the splashing of beer
catching fish and fishermen
is bringing the town to life.

No Matter

The memory of beer batter frying
woke my tongue before the sun
and lured me to the kitchen
where Mom was slicing apples,
but my quick slice of toast was lacking.

No matter. I was going fishing.

I grabbed my gear and headed out
while the sun insisted louder than my mother
that a hat is necessary if I want to see
the fish swimming just under morning’s glare
while I dangle my toes off the end of the dock.

No matter. I was fishing.

The bait welcomed the chance to help me
as they danced their wiggly choose me dance,
and it was up to me to pick just the right one
that Big Bob wanted to nibble on today
but even after ten sure to tempt lures,
Big Bob wasn’t biting.

No matter. I was fishing.

The morning, without so much as a thank you,
slowly ate up my worms leaving me
with a defeated empty string line,
so I was heading home.

No matter. Mom was baking pies.

3 Mile Island

Some things are great in threes,
like 3 Stooges, 3 blind mice,
or 3 wise men.

You can run a 3 legged race,
ride a 3 wheeler,
or watch the 3 Ring Circus.

You can make a 3 point landing
or get 3 cheers before
3 strikes and you’re out.

But everyone knows
that 3’s a crowd.
so when teenage girls,
best friends forever
with the 3 faces of Eve,
pretend to be the 3 mustketeers,
you know that their world
is about to explode.

Unique Just Like the Rest

Grandma told her
more times than she could count
that she was special,
so special,
and soon everyone would see that.

So she expected nothing less
when she tried to get those foolish girls
to see her idea,
her special idea.

But all through the class
her friends wouldn’t listen
and kept changing the discussion
to some ridiculous thing,
or another.

Later she tells Grandma
what idiots, those ordinary girls are
who haven’t a clue
about what could be cool,
so trendy and cool.
Couldn’t they see?

Later her pillow absorbs no comfort
for she is too stubborn
to give up her tears,
her special tears.

Getting an Education

Our bedroom had old hardwood floors
that hid a treasure right out in the open,
a painted rusty metal grate,
and through its slats you could overhear
everything a child wanted to know.

So when your parents were down below
playing cribbage with your cousin’s parents,
it took great skill to cover your mouth quickly.

Your shocked inhalations shouldn’t be heard
sending Dad’s cards flying down onto the table
and his feet to the stairs.

So we listened with the kind of intensity
that our teacher was hoping
could have been applied to science.

If only she knew
what we knew
from listening at the grate.