What Comes Next

Richard Musto

A crotchety World War II vet

With bandy legs and swollen feet
Hangs out downstairs

On my neighbors’ stoop

Coffee pots and trinkets

Spread out on display

Engaged in his unique

Form of commerce

By harassment

Pity and shtick

What more can

I do or say

Now so clearly I hear

My upstairs neighbor’s

Sage advice –

Don’t get involved

You have no idea

And it’s absolutely true

After almost a year

That I’ve known Richard

Taken a dozen road trips 

To Atlantic City on his behalf 

To the office of Veterans Affairs

And county welfare

Late night excursions

To the Emergency Room

This 87-year-old homeless man

Now comes to roost
On my doorstep

This morning

He cursed at me –

Why did you have

To get involved

I never asked for

Your help

And that too is

Absolutely true

I meddled here

At my own initiative

And what Colin Powell

Once said in reference to Iraq

May very well be true

Of men's hearts and minds

You break it

You own it

And by this logic

Since I helped

Break Richard

Of his lifelong habit

Of stubborn self-reliance

Paying for his room and board

Through the winter just passed

Today he sits downstairs

With his unpacked wares

Inescapably my problem

There are no agencies to call

No social workers to help  

Money itself is of little

Or no avail

I can write

Poetry or prose

All day long

And it won’t

Change a single thing

What comes next?

Honestly

I haven’t the slightest idea

It’s an all too human condition

Beyond treatment

Or even palliative care

Other than a sandwich

And another cup of coffee

And wherever Richard may be

When I next go downstairs

The soreness still lingers

Like an abscess

On the heart

The New Normal

Today I read there's going to be a transit of Venus which won't happen again for another hundred years or so.


So this is how
We cobble things
Together as part of
The new normal

We're on the network
Constantly
With Facebook
And Twitter
All the time
Incessantly chattering
About new books
And clients and
A whole flood
Of great ideas

Committed to do
Whatever it takes
To keep the entire
Starship Enterprise afloat
Warp drive and all
By any and all means 

We stand together
On the captain's bridge
Or widow's walk
What have you
Often half-crocked
But always with
One eye half-cocked
On the cold hard facts
Given the steadying premonition
Of impending collapse

To Our Backyard on the 3rd of June

It's quite remarkable
What a blind man can do
Or a sightless dog
For that matter
Just as loving
Of the universe
Able to write
An epic poem or two
Or walk with impunity
Under any of Life's
Many ladders

So let me drink in
With my eyes
This beautiful
Backyard scene deeply
And for as long as I can
That it may be all the better
Imprinted on the brain pan
Accessible to me
Long after the sight's gone

Whether by winter whitened
Or old age diminished
It shall remain peerless
And sublime within

Ode to Chang'e

Tonight I woke to pee
And saw a shaft of light
From the almost full moon
As it trended westerly
Shearing across the treetops
And falling crisp as a spotlight
Centered directly
On the front lawn

But by the time
I stumbled downstairs
The front lawn was bare
And it was only out back
That I could bask in the glow
Of the moon's reflective glare

And there I stood in its midst
Awed by the utter clarity
Of the moonlight
As it descended
Across rooftops and treetops
Over the fingertips of cumulus clouds
That extended across the sky

The night itself glowed
Unlikely as the snowcap
Atop of Kilimanjaro
And I discerned
The very pathway
Leading directly
From my home
To yours