Diner

The time has come to say goodbye, our plates empty except for
our greasy napkins. Comrades, you on my left, balding,
middle-aged guy with a ponytail, and you, Lefty, there on my right,
though we barely spoke I feel our kinship. You were steadfast in
passing the ketchup, the salt and pepper, no man could ask for better
companions. Lunch is over, the cheese-burgers and fries, the
Denver sandwich, the counter nearly empty. Now we must go our
separate ways. Not a fond embrace, but perhaps a hearty handshake.
No? Well then, farewell. It is unlikely I'll pass this way
again. Unlikely we will all meet again on this earth, to sit together
beneath the neon and fluorescent calmly sipping our coffee, like
the sages sipping their tea underneath the willow, sitting quietly,
saying nothing.

(Louis Jenkins)

Tidewater Glaciers

Floating frozen pre-historic garbage
Collected every second by barely liquid
Pure whiteness polluted black and blue
Ten thousand years fighting mountains
Milky murky blue gray water

A mess of bright destruction
Pan dimensionally immense
Cocktail of effluvium
Regurgitated ice cream
With fake coloring meringue
Might majesty dominion and mess.

(WRM in Alaska)