Red River Girl

212/365

giant blues guitar pick
moon. grab the rest of the band
and play us a tune.

211/365

our Irish friends say there are good ships
moon. and wood ships that
sail the sea. but the best ships of all
are friendships true.
and may they always be.

Sláinte.

210/365

bite off the top of corn candy
moon. bite off the bottom.
the middle is you.

209/365

a year is a year. then
another, moon. time has a way
of tellin the truth.

207/365

you look like a magic 8 ball
moon. except somebody wiped all the color
off you.

(tell Jim to concentrate)
(and ask again)
(it’s hard to outwit an icosahedron)

206/365

everything comes full circle
moon. here’s to families
old and new.

205/365

you might havta do your own laundry
moon. cuz no one round here’s got a
laundry shoot.

(speed scrabble?)
(maybe)
(pressin shirts?)
(craazzzy)

204/365

much later than we expected
moon. gonna be tempting
to hit the snoooooooooze.

203/365

whatever you do, don’t call
moon. and whatever you do, don’t write.
and do not send a telegram, pigeon or bat.
or signal with flashing lights.

don’t send a note in a bottle.
by courier, Par avion, or boat.
and whatever you do,
do not shoot up a flare.

(Jim‘ll go up in smoke)
(who sends bats?)

202/365

If The Moon Wrote An Ode To Your Luggage:

…this is an ode to your luggage.
and the way you consistently stuff it.

with pressed shirts and trousers. and minty
foot powder. and all a world traveler might need
for the shower.

you skip all the extras. yet step out
in style. as you glide through the skies
on your platinum miles.

you’ll never pay fees. or stand
in a queue. because all that you need’s carried
on with you. and it slides so discreetly. right under
the seat-y. holding costumes, stilettos and
eyelash glue.

always there at your heels,
wherever you tug it. until
into the overhead bin you tuck it:

your luggage

201/365

what’s in half a moon,
moon? what’s in half a thought?
what’s in half a fairy tale? a girl, a
boy, a plot?

who says the ending’s the end of
things? who says the beginning’s not?
who says a kiss should be anything more
than a place that time forgot?

who says a question
needs answers? why must a clue
be true? and who says it wouldn’t be silly
moon, not to wish on you?

200/365

white chocolate dipped in dark chocolate
moon. better watch out.
we’ll eat you.

199/365

we really did relish the relish
moon. the pickles and sauerkraut too.
brown mustard, green peppers and
garlic salt, followed by Guinness
and chew.

now we’ve got a bit
of a tummy ache, and we’re tryin
to settle a row.

(Jane claims it’s the foot-long hot dogs)
(Jim wants to blame it on you)

(Frank ate two)

196/365

fallin right outta the sky
moon. stick you back up
with Gorilla Glue.

195/365

throw lucky horseshoes. wish
on a star. jump on a calico
trolley car. get off
at first avenue. wait
in the rain. call for a
taxi. start over
again.

spend your last sixpence
without asking why. fill
cupid’s quiver
with whiskey
and rye.

wake up
in the morning. follow
the sun. the moon’s there
to greet you
when daylight is done.

194/365

sittin on fish chairs
by the lake with you
moon. it’s one of our favorite
things to do.

(Jim knows where you can get one too…)
(Minnesota Lake Chairs)

193/365

things that want our bodies,
moon.

children.
cancer.
men.