February 23, 2019

Soft Gentle Distraction


Soft hands are of no interest to me

Is my first thought but I realize

That’s not exactly true.

I’m sort of obsessed with them

Morbidly fascinated by the life lived

Resulting in no calluses, no broken nails

No cracked skin, no permanent grease stains

No dirt (no longer soil) embedded on the side of the index finger

Not a sign of that organic complex that

Supports life in any corner of a nail.

Lives so foreign to me and mine.

And so I sit and stare at hands

Men’s mostly.

Having a different unrealistic absurd standard

For women’s hands.

Not wondering about their soft hands

Not wondering why their soft hands aren’t repulsive

And why men’s soft hands are. To me.

Not wondering why I care at all or

Why I’m not just worried about my own damn self

Or the actual subject of this (yet another) meeting.

Instead here I fixate on pristine doughy man hands

Only wondering if I’m making a face

As I stare.

September 28

Paper Wasp on Goldenrod


It’s always a surprise to see

Not sure why I’m surprised to see

Wasps fly from flower to flower

– – – – – I am not scared

Is it the lack of hair that scares?

Slick pollinators causing dread

It’s always a surprise, you see

– – – – – I am not scared

Simply observe, no one gets stung

Evil’s in the beholder’s eye

Marvel at nature’s keen brilliance

– – – – – I am not scared


(A Baccresieze Poem)

Wasp Pollination

March 28



Walked up to some steps to nowhere

Figuring they must go somewhere

Do I find out or imagine?

Will it be familiar to me

Or make me want to turn and flee?

Will they lead to wealth or ruin?

Will they lead to sadness or joy?

Will they entertain or annoy?

Nothing left to do but begin.


(A Nove Otto Poem)