If you really knew me. . .

In high school, friends from another school, who nonetheless knew my mother,
assumed I was a cheerleader.
They judged me based on my size,
my smile,
my personality.
But I wasn't and never had been a cheerleader.

My colleagues who only know me as the teacher who cannot say "No,"
assume that in high school I was the student leader.
The student involved in every activity,
especially Student Council.
But I wasn't ever involved in Student Council.

If you really knew me, you would know that I was a caver.
Not spelunking, that's what you non-cavers call it.
I was a belly-crawling in the mud,
through an opening that not even my hard had would fit through,
through an opening that my now after-birth hips would never fit through,
CAVER.

Haikus and a Lost Dog

Haikus for a Lost Dog

1.

She felt cold, tundra

of white, clean the firm silence.

Empty steppe links breaths.

2.

Wrapped in off-white sheets

her tail a permanent curve

she rests on old snow.

3.

Pillow replaces

her, bearing her scent after

she moves to smooth steel.

Haikus from a Lost Dog

1.

They freeze-dry their pets

in some countries, preserving

bodies, not just hides.

2.

In movies, women

sit on dogs and bury them.

Someone digs them up.

3.

For taxidermists

only outer hides remain.

My breath blows through fire.

"Wrong Channel" Found Poem

This is America

Bibles

Reader's Digest

Impala

Espresso

Florida Room

Green Card

Beads of sweat

Good impression

Healthier look

Medical records

Interpreter

No bueno

TB

TV

Make sure it works

You need to buy one

This is America

Attaining the American dream:

TV--yes

TB--no

A silly poem to share

Square Foot

It takes on the shape of my shoe now,

smashed black and blue,

like Oe’s The Changling.

Kojito offends a Yakuza boss

but instead of killing Kojito,

setting his feet in concrete,

the Yakuza attack him

every three years

smashing Kojito’s left foot.

By the third attack,

the foot is so disfigured,

it won’t fit into a regular shoe.

Kojito claims gout.

Still hopeful, I wear blue Velcro,

toes jammed together

moving safely not toward gout but a heal.