Monthly Archives: June 2025

Metamorphosis

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Every night, when they went to bed,
   she spun a cocoon about herself
   of blankets, sheets, duvets, 
 
While he slept adjacent,
   clinging to the edge,
   strangely content,
 
Knowing that, in the morning,
   she would emerge,
   spreading her wings,
 
Fluttering him
   with love
   and scrambled eggs.
 

Adult

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He was stiff and ached
   from the dares of childhood
   and near-misses of youth. 
 
He remembered being seven,
   able to run faster than
   anyone in the whole world,
 
And knowing with certainty
   that, when he grew up,
   he would run even faster.
 

Ode to an Old Shirt

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You were a gift
   with a slogan
   across your chest.
 
“Talk Bizarre” or
   something close —
   all that’s left,
 
After many
   detergent cycles,
   is a faded Z, and
 
Many holes,
   tears and
   sagging neck.
 
Once worn often
   every season,
   you performed well
 
In the manner of shirts —
   kept out cold,
   blocked breeze,
 
Shielded skin
   from sun,
   sponged up sweat.
 
But “Bizarre” gave you
   a long life
   and many conversations,
 
That was your
   unique attribute,
   your elixir of youth.
 
And now, wet
   with soapy water,
   you push and pull
 
Across a filthy car,
   Z forgotten,
   no longer bizarre,
 
Suffering the
   mundane fate
   of a rag.
   

Limericks for John

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PTH
Peptidyl tRNA hydrolase
Eliminates cellular toxic waste.
    In the heat, cells will die
    With a cough and a sigh,
By John’s lethal mutant erased.
 
Sea Turtle
There once was a sea turtle carapace
In the basement of Menninger’s ediface.
    In the middle of winter,
    The museum did whimper,
And the shell swam back fast to its starting place.
 
Frogometer
What a wonderful thing the frogometer,
Diabolical quasi-voltameter.
    When a frog sees John enter,
    The amphibious sprinter
Breaks records and hops a kilometer.
 
Rattleback
An amazing thing is the rattleback
Spins merrily left with a tiny smack —
    But to physicists’ surprise
    Natural laws seems like lies,
As it even turns left with a rightward whack!
 
          Limericks in honor of Prof. John Menninger,
          who finds them the highest expression of poetry,
          on his 90th birthday. 
 

Ghost Tree Sirens

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            The sirens sit in a green field
            and warble him to death
            with the sweetness of their song.
                  Homer, The Odyssey
 
Ghostly beeches in Winter’s crisp
      spread ochrous wings,
      and siren call,
 
“Come, we beseech
      and implore
      and beg and sing —
 
Leave the path and
      tramp the muddy ground
      through ferns and leaves.
 
Come beneath our wings,
      our pale protection,
      our comforting arms.
 
We’ll guard you
      from loblolly ghouls
      with heaven-piercing stems.
 
We’ll lay you down
      with softest rotting logs,
      and moldy turf,
 
And moss you over
      with fairest green
      like dripping sponge.
 
The anxious squirrel
      will race over you
      and rest content.
 
The worms beneath
      will squirm in peace
      and fear not the crow.
 
By us, you will
      sleep forever
      in Eden’s forest.”
 
      — Photo is a “ghost tree” beech
      in a loblolly pine forest near Chapel Hill, NC