Russ and Meg Savage Write Poetry

Inspired by the Cochise College Annual Creative

Writing Celebration
Global Warming

I am not carbon-friendly today

It must be something
I ate

Greenhouse gas is being created

In my industrial zone where
Food becomes waste

Being gas
It is expelled in a
Puff-
Causing some noise
Drifting into space to exist
Forever

Melting the icebergs and warming the planet

Global Warming too

Another talk show

Complaining about
Complaining about
Global Warming

Whether it is because of
SUV’s or
Cow Farts

The weather sure seems screwed up

Snow in the desert
Heat waves in Antarctica

Mother Nature sure seems pissed

Payback

I don’t complain so loudly now

When old people get in my way

The curses under my breath

And my eyeballs rolling up to heaven

Are replaced now with a lack of tolerance

For loud car stereos
And impatient youth

Wasted on the young

Walkers

Why do they call it a walker?

Old people using the device aren’t really walking

It should be called a
“crawling while standing” device

Canes are cool

They can hide swords

Mechanical chairs
can be souped up to a point of requiring
airbags,

but a walker.

It is never pretty to watch

and is always in front of a long line
Microphone

The man appears to be talking to himself

Squinting eyes
Nervously scanning the room
For the audio-visual kid

Squeals of feedback
Silence the chatting attendees

Can you hear me now?

Microphone too

You can talk quietly

Into a microphone and your voice will come out big

They seem to be
An invention for shy, quiet people

Loud people avoid

The microphone
Like a condemned man shuns a blindfold

Can you hear me ok?

I don’t think I need this microphone

Well it seems like you’re on your own

Casino

Normal looking

Until she starts caressing the glowing screen

Of the penny slot machine, hoping for luck

Visions of legions of germs

Clinging to the glass
Vestiges of previous losers

I have to move
Casino Too

The machine eats my 20

A button is pushed and video reels spin

I could be a big winner, but I lose my 25 cents

Another button is pushed and video reels spin

I could be a big winner, but I lose my 25 cents

The machine eats my 20

Celebration

Aspiring writers
Oozing seriousness
and rapt attention
As the guest speaker talks about
Road kill
With a straight face
Easter

We have bunnies in the back yard

They don’t wear hats
Color eggs
Or eat carrots

Our bunnies like bird seed

And stand very still to
Become invisible
It is good we didn’t invent a holiday
Centered on bunnies
Ladies Room

There aren’t any chaise lounges

Or video games
Like he thinks

But
unusual discussions
can often be heard
If you are patient
And quiet

And stay in your stall until everyone else leaves

ADA

Youth will not last

So one must prepare for the day
When all this ADA stuff will come in
Handy

Today in preparation for the

Burden of old age
I push the button for the automatic door
Use the handicap toilet
(it’s so spacious)
Kneeling
I simulate my eventual position
To test the handicap sink

I am prepared
Let old age come
Perrier

French water like champagne

Bubbles

It makes me
Burp

Funny
The burps sound
English
Not French?
Three Sentence Guide to Raising Children

1. Don’t make me kill you

2. You weren’t born yet

3. You have till the count of three

Ants

My six legs moved like fluid

Eyes and antennae are useless
When following
A pheromone trail

The happiness of home drifts into my senses

As I carry my burden of food
For the good of the colony

A behemoth blocks the passage

Challenges us
For our food

We are helpless against this huge monster

This beetle
A killer from our nightmares

Our warriors the soldiers

Come to our rescue

The smell of home drifts again into our minds

And feet
We march again
Poetry is

A gentle breeze
That blows down your shed

One word that means the world to

You

Being told you have six months to live and being killed by a bus
On the way home

Life’s dissertations
Distilled, chilled and crowned
By a plump, skewered olive

An unseen bird
Appearing in the viewfinder
Just as the shutter clicks

Urgent thoughts
Pushed through a pastry bag
Three, Four
The cars come fast on the wide city street

Eight, Ten, Twelve

Some swerve to avoid the mess
Of flesh and fur that a few minutes ago was
My first cat

Nineteen, Twenty
I couldn’t count any more