Different Slants

by Robert M. Katzman © April 30, 2012 (my 62^nd birthday)

Long ago

Her thin back

to the wide murky

Fast-flowing

Mississippi River

*

Her long

White-blond hair

Tousled like

Autumn Hay

In the cold river’s wind

(Read on …)

© January 22, 2012 

To know a rabbit

Requires

Paying attention

to

Silence

*

I call

My rabbit:

Rabbit

To date

Rabbit

Has expressed

No other preference

*

When Rabbit is hungry

He looks at me

When Rabbit is frightened

He looks at me

When my Rabbit is happy to see me

He looks at me

*

Rabbit’s

Opaque

Shining black eyes

Expect me to understand

*

The consequences

of my

Misunderstanding

are

Permanent

*

Dry Timothy grass

Leafy Romaine lettuce

Raw whole carrots

and

Curious little pellets

Make up

Rabbit’s buffet

*

I line

Rabbit’s cage

With

Recycled

New York Times

Pages

Hoping to raise our

Relationship

To a

Higher plane

But Rabbit’s

Response

Has been disturbing

(Read on …)

Posted on August 11, 2011

“So, Miss, I want to make Payment Arrangements”

There will be a late fee, Sir

But I’m already having trouble paying you

Sorry, Sir, but that’s the rules, Sir

I tried to call 611 to get you, but this message wouldn’t let me

Wait a minute, Sir, I’ll check on that

(pause)

Oh, that’s an automatic upgrade!

What for?

Well, you qualify for a new and better phone…

But I don’t want one

I don’t know how to use the one I already have

Oh, but Sir, you’ll be able to connect directly with the internet!

(pause)

Excuse me, Miss–but, what’s your name?

(pause)

(Read on …)

SIX-LEGGED OBSESSION!!!
THE FLY AND I SEE EYE-TO-EYE  September 30, 2007

My original newsstand, from August 1965 on was 4 feet x 4 feet, built from rough, stolen, construction-site exterior plywood sheeting, was about 6 feet high, with a roof that projected out from the front of it about 4 more feet, at an angle making the far edge of the overhanging roof higher off the sidewalk by about one foot than the back of the tiny newsstand, where it was secured by many nails. It was meant to shield us from the powerful sunlight that turned our ‘hot-off-the-presses’ newspapers yellow and our skin red ( pale Rick) and brown ( olive Bob), and also from sudden rain squalls that would otherwise drench our small stacks of newspapers.

Its color was a kind of checkerboard white and green, really ugly, but they were the only two cans of paint I could find in my mother’s garage. On the sides of the stand, where it was white, I painted “B & R Newsstand”. I was very proud of our little enterprise and its name. Rick, less so.

(Read on …)