Chem trails and the CIA
I see them up there
In the sky.
I just know
somebody’s going somewhere
or watching me.
I hunker down,
look up.
They’re still there.
There’s no place
to hide.

There they are in the pasture
the sheep or goats
whatever
I want to eat
everyone
of them
but we’d have to
drive back
and find
an off-ramp
leading to food.
I should have
eaten breakfast
or at least
finished my coffee.
my blood sugar’s down
and I’m fading fast…

Looking through the passenger window
I like the way
the highway
the shoulder
then parallel road
then orchard
then mountains
stretch away
my life
going past

I’m working on
expanding
a story
to send off
to a magazine
hoping
this time
they won’t reject me
not realizing
their loss

big flag
on the restaurant
politicizing
food

like old friends
the signs I’ve seen before
and immortalized in blogs
we’re both smiling
if signs
could smile

	Blame for What

I hear people say
It’s California’s fault.
Actually,
California
has many faults,
not just San Andreas,
and the thrust
to mountains everywhere
so you can see them
wherever you are in the state
makes us more unique
than we otherwise would be
without them

whenever I stumble
on a double entendre
I’ve written
and notice
the ways it can go
I have to decide
whether to keep it
or just let it go

the Round Table of Democracy
has no head
or foot
everyone sits equal
across
from
everybody else

I’m almost using up
my zingers
so I guess
I’ll keep on writing
‘cause I don’t
know how to stop

If you’re reading
all this ramble
I know
you’re putting up with me
so thanks
I’ll write and ramble
more
just for you

My God!
Look!
Over there!
There’s a hole in that roof!
Nobody could live there!
But I stop myself
from saying more
because my own roof
has several holes
and I’m still living
waiting for repairs

When every line I write
sounds like the last
I know it’s not
time to stop

Another executive decision:
I won’t live
in that isolated house
there’s not enough to do
or write about
and I’m too old to be a farmer
although
there are farmers
even older
but it’s too late now
I’ve already
made up my mind
to not

Do you wanna drive,
Dad?
No, I’d better not,
I don’t trust myself,
I nodded off
a few times
in the back seat
and that’s not
a good sign
for driving readiness.
Oh, if only
everyone
could recognize
the implications

Pledge Drive
on the radio
says if you could find
eleven friends
across the country
to give
and I think
though having more
eleven friends
is pretty good

I laugh
while I’m writing
if I can
think it’s funny
you can laugh too
and laugh along with me
What’s that
you say?
I didn’t hear you
through the laughter

A dear friend
I just recently
caught up with
on the phone
said
“I’m amazed
at how you
write so much positive”
so I know
he’s reading my blog

Do you get me?
You can have me.
I’m free
and easy

there it is again
the spreading water
of the incipient lake
Oh Lakey
how I’ve missed you!

Sign says
Don’t Miss…
something something
I squint
can’t make it out
need my glasses
too late
I miss a lotta things
don’t know
what I miss

I don’t know
what caterwauling is
but I hear the radio
and know that’s it

	Judgmental

So many people
take a song we know
and put a spin on it
to pretend
they’ve made something original
and I’m not 
entirely cynical
because sometimes
the new variant
turns out good
and even sometimes
the original
retries
sometimes successful
and I remind myself
to be not
so judgmental
but then
there’s the one
that comes along
and I cry out
No!
No way!
Not even!
Not ever!
Try again!
or maybe not

the pointing finger
there’s the mountain, Dad
and over there
and over there
they’re all around us
but I’m not afraid

I rumble
as I ramble
watching clouds
drifting by
even if
there’s nothing there
there’s always
something to see

I need
to keep my energy up
strengthen
my strength
walk more
so I can get
somewhere
It’s not enough to realize
I really do
need to get out more

Stopping now
for food
as promised
as anticipation
becomes relief
and hunger attends
my emptiness
soon to be filled
like life
after loss
I’m ready
To eat

People gather around
to watch me eat.
I know I’m a spectacle but
aren’t they hungry too?
I gesture with a spare rib
dripping sauce
and say
“Come join me.
There’s enough
to go around,
and watching’s
only second best.”
They dig in,
see I’m right.
We eat together knowing
Democracy’s
not just a word.

Wanna drive, Dad?
I decline.
I don’t trust myself, because
I nodded off
a few times in the back seat.
She says,
“I appreciate your honesty.”
So I remain
sitting in the back
and try
to write some more.
Sometimes
I can do what’s right.

Yes, food
does democratize.
It’s so easy
to correct history
by getting food
to hungry people.
Beans and rice
can stop a war.
We know what
we need to do,
now we need
to do it.

Sign:
Petco
I see the pet
I guess I see the co
I want to pet the pet
don’t know about the co

FOOD!
Stopped at Michoacan
new to all of us
but we’ll be back
a real surprise
pleasant
delicious
cost effective
lunch menu
for me
Chile Verde
big chunks of pork
succulent as
the menu promised
margaritas
for Kristina and Chaz
quite good
had a sip
my experience limited
so I don’t know better
and at the next table
dinner and a show
guacamole prepared
at the table not only
fresh but with style
a swoop of the knife
to impale and lift
the detractable pit
fruit mashed to perfection
so everybody watching
got jealous
would want
to order it too.
Who knew it was there?
Now we do.
and now stuffed
moving slowly
back to the car
and back on the road.

Tried my silly joke,
“I guess we can come back.”
They didn’t bat an eye.
said
“Anytime.”

Redding
Population more
than 92,000
a lot here
biggest in this
whole top end of the state
and just miles
from Chico
and the college I’ve heard of
and beer
and living made possible
better than many

Camper we drive past
The brand name: Hideout
I don’t know
who’s hiding
from what

and the Sacramento River
now one of my favorite rivers
because I’m from
Southern California
and we don’t really have
rivers
wish we did

and now the shadow falls
as the mountains
block the sun

I cry
when I pass the little towns
that look picturesque
and probably friendly
with a little theater
libraries
nice houses
and Shirley and I
would turn to each other
passing through
and say to each other
“we could live here”
as we imagined
what it would be like
and now I cry
because I imagine
what it would be like

Lake Shasta
beautiful again
Kristina says
“Makes you wanna jump in”
I say,
“Well, you can.
There are places.”
Chaz laughs.
Kristina laughs too.

That lake’s
really something
we’ve been driving past
seems hours
and the lake
is still here

the trestle bridge
way down below
I always like
to look down
hoping
to see a train

I’m still full
from Michoacan
I take the food with me
inside
for hours

Did you see
the Brazilian flag, Dad?
I looked too late,
missed it.
The flag they tell me
was flapping in the wind.
Everyone comes to California
by plane, train, car,
on foot
and by truck.
They know
what I know,
none of us wrong.

and Shasta
that snow capped mountain piled high
looks good enough to eat
for my reviving healthy appetite

Kristina says,
“Look at the Mountain.”
I say,
“Looks delicious.”
She says,
“all that powdered sugar.”
I say,
“you need a big spoon.”

and those miles of burn
dead trees after fire
still standing still
as if to remind us
of what they once were

and Manfredi’s
as always
and Chaz comes
out with a bag
probably beef sticks
and snacks for later

they all look alike
that sell lottos and scratchers
you can cash in your scratcher
and not know where you are

and now
we’re close

and we’re here
and we’re home
I close the notebook
put away the pen