Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #5                        Page 21
                                   
Table of
Contents



SILK PURSE

That wasn’t my business, it was my lack of enthusiasm.

A lot of different coats to break into or out of.

The breathalyzer couldn’t help but confuse him.

Contortionists running from station to station.

This is the waiter’s station. Once a waiter always a waiter.

What was it to have a well-stocked mind?

That’s why it’s so diffident.

Five quotes to the dollar.

The salesman said he liked the book, but

The clock is an evil stepfather looking for cannon fodder.

And the remains are for praying.

Yes I make mistakes, too many.

But it’s not an exclusive club.

Expensive, yes.

I can see for miles, but I can’t focus. And miles, but it’s all blurry.

It’s a cheap shot as cost him his job.

An expensive shot would have been equally effective.

Something to linger on about.

But I don’t have the savvy.

  Ian Ganassi __
THE GARDEN PATH

It makes it or breaks it if I do,

Which is how the somnambulist perambulates.

A little off the top please.

I cut myself shaving;

The joke was funny until we lost it.

At which time? Does anybody really know?

If I don’t count the hours I’ll be late.

Happy All Saints Day,

Belatedly yours,

I am wishing on a fishbone that we might haul something in,

Sympathetic magic notwithstanding.

In any case, this isn’t the party we thought it was,

We’re on the verge.

How, high are you?

In fact I would say invisible.

And the invisible never lies, there’s no reason to bother.

  Ian Ganassi__

STICKS AND ONIONS

Running out of various things, like time, the bet was still on.
Indeed, how could it not be? It would leave too big a hole.
Our hearts may be empty but the game gives us something to go on.

And you wondered about the chicken salad on a roll.
They were very serious about the nonsense they spewed.
Of course they didn’t think it nonsense. And a poster of Betty Boop.

Everyone is entitled to their own useless opinion, and “thoughts are free.”
But sometimes I’m in a better mood. It was only a TV
Production of Lear, but the tears fell where she stood,

Peeling an onion, paring knife in hand. And speaking of sex,
As a topic it’s always there to fill any gap in the conversation.
And yet it’s never spoken of. Figure that little puzzle out. To the West

We find good old So and So catching up on his moving violations.
And if you had that kind of power, wouldn’t you swerve a bit too?
But the rules are unimpeachable, or so they say. Making a call on your cell

To tell me your brand of pot is more expensive than mine,
And that the ongoing experiment will resolve the paucity of time.
“Seventy percent of life is showing up.” It’s a question of which seventy percent.

You have to go for the juicy part. There’s no other way to approach the art.
The art of what, you ask? The art of staying on the scent or in the cents.
Some of us are in dollars, some in cents. The knave was eating tarts.

  Ian Ganassi__