New Poem - Dinosaur

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Here's a new (for non-Patreon-types)  poem.

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DINOSAUR 

Dig tool's 

Blunt plastic at both ends. 

Takes precision. You can't just 

Jab into the slab. 

I coax my nephew: Tap Gently. 

Like you're knocking on a door, 

Some secret code.

He digs. I brush. Fervently,each sweep 

Scraping past the silt of what is known 

To find the fossils buried within. 

We're Making Progress 

Dr. Seibert, 

I murmur. He squints a smile, 

Takes both the dig tool and brush, 

Sets upon the yielding earth. 

I read from the kit's glossy activity 

Guide: Fossils Can Determine 

Many Clues About Dinosaurs, But Not All - 

Dr. Seibert pauses, 

Cocks his head 

In apprehension: 

Really? 

Sure, I say. For example, 

Color. There's no evidence of 

What hue a Triceratops actually was - 

So We Can Make 'Em Whatever We Want, he grins, 

Taps, Taps, and Grins. 

Yes. 

Very little dinosaurs become fossils. 

Time's a thief, 

And It takes extraordinary preservation, 

Little water, 

And - 

                                                                       His hands strike the surface of a shiny, 

                                                                       Jewel-like Tooth, 

                                                                                              embedded in the clay. 

                                                                        Yawning up in greeting. 

And I wonder, 

Will this memory 

Be an artifact 

Subsumed, decomposed? 

A story is a fossil where the bones 

Have been replaced

With questions 

New Poem - Misanthrope

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Here's a new (new to non-Patreon folk) poem.  Based on a true story.

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MISANTHROPE

About

twenty-six days

before he died

in a suburb

in Idaho,

my grandfather

grew convinced

the neighborhood children

could sniff his senescence

and he took

to sleeping

with a loaded

Colt 45

under his pillow

My taciturn grandmother,

still daily

and for hours

(until her fatal emphysema)

composing her feathery hair,

finally hid

the handgun,

but expired

before sharing the location

So there

we were,

Growing up quickly.

Screening every parcel of

a pre-fab dwelling

(with a toddler inside)

Hoping first to disable

that final

fuck you

Gestured

by a man

whose field of fucks

had grown fallow for decades.

More skeleton and whisky

and cigarette smoke

than heart.