ONCE IN A WHILE

By the old dock

Near the bridge

On the side where they kept the sailboats

Opposite the fishing fleet

The lobster catch was emptied 

Into the old shack

And sorted by weight

Once in a while 

A big old one got caught

Maybe 50 years old or more

And they’d keep it around for its special value

Until someone would come in

Wanting to buy it

Or just because it was there

Wanting to buy it

And then it was gone

Killed off and eaten

As if it were a common animal

Instead of a something.

And then the place returned to being

Just a lobster shack

With maybe a 4-pounder or so

On a good day.

 (c) Alan S. Kleiman 2013

 published: About Place Journal Vol II issue III - 2013

BODY WHISPERS

My bird chews quietly by the humming sounds
the cars outside passing between lights
the fan on the computer singing a steady drone
a door opening and closing as one leaves a room
saying I'm settling in

I read some poems of the famous
I listened to them speak their magic on colored videos
with talk show host
I saw these poets with their hairs all combed
and dressed up in poet clothes
with hems and cuffs
that skimmed the ground
where we would step

I was listening to my bird
chew a seed
and push one kernel aside
to find its favorite

You see, I had entered the holy room
where sometimes
on a clear day
a few words of my own
come together
and I smell my body whispering
poet.


 (c) Alan S. Kleiman 2013
 published: The Lake (UK) - 2013