I had crossed that bridge

                 Before I came to it, 

           As I had already 

             Burned it 

                 Behind me. 



Birds in the hand

or in the bush

are of a feather

                  Better cast in unsyntactic freedom

                  Of flight and song 

                 Than as symbols of avaricious 


 Open the hand. 

  Let them flock together. 

Birds 2

 A hand in the bush
    Is worth two
  in the tree. 

Old Test

 An eye for an I

  A truth for a tooth

                    Sow the wind with eyes

        And inherit TV

                    Beauty is in the eye

                   Of the hurricane 


  The curious cat 

 When away 

  May find itself

                    Belled, or out of

             All nine lives 

                   Or skinned in more ways than one.

                     Or it may get let 

                   Out of the bag

               Rain down with dogs

                   Make copies

                    Play cat and mouse


                   And finally 


                  Swallow the canary.  

Dog Days

                     You can't teach an old dog 

                  To lie in a manger,

 But if it's sleeping

                You can let it lie

          Or lie with it 

                  And get up with fleas. 

                   Hair of dog helps 

                    When you're sick as a  

                 Or going to the 

                           Or when doggone dogmatists

                   Doggedly dog your steps. 

                   But even when 

                  Being the underdog,

                  In this dog-eat-dog 


                            Gives you that hangdog look, 

                   Take heart, 

                   You'll have your day. 

Horse Sense

   If you put a gift-horse

  Before an upset apple-cart, 

 And let it eat like one,

and work like one

You may as well

         Lead it to water,

                   Look in its mouth,

                       Or lock the barn.


                   If you're champing at the bit, 

          And don't spare them,

                   You might change in mid-stream, 

Drown, and have people still 

                  Beating your corpse. 


             If money is the root of all evil 

                 Surely it should grow on trees. 

                  If you've got good money

 To burn

                  Or flush down the toilet 

                 Or throw after bad, 
                 Take your time,

                            Since that's money too-- 

                  Unless you're a fool 

                 In which case, 

                 Spend it immediately,

                  Now! Today! 


            Hoping to strike it rich,

                  You strike while the iron's hot,  

                But with two strikes against you, 

      You strike out.

     Then fate strikes... 

  You stroke out. 

    At your funeral, 

                 The gravediggers are on strike; 

                 So you try to strike a bargain

      With God, 

                 Which strikes Him as funny. 

People Who Live

They see your house

      its angled facets

     mingling transparencies

  glass walls 

    clear windows

               sheets of sun-ice

                 sheer membranes trembling 

                  with liquid spectra, 

                   and fight for the right  

             to cast 

                  the first stone. 


 Roses are rose  

                 Violets are violet.  

 Roses and violets

Are fire and indigo

Scarlet and plum  

                 Aurora and amethyst  

                 Carmine and lavender

                   Crimson and heliotrope. 


             Tear open every cliche,

                   Unpack its sumptuous wardrobe 

                  Try on its velour costumes.


                Roses are infrared

                   Violets are ultraviolet 


                       Orchids are orgasms.