Saturday, March 30, 2013


I get my pizza supreme
and enjoy it so.
But a marriage supreme?
What do I have to know?

My lover and I have no qualms
about the state of our union.
No legality will enhance our charms
or affect our communion.

OK, legal, let it be
I'm worn-out by your semantics.
"Marriage", will be for me;
Isn't it romantic.

Monday, March 25, 2013


We were dodgers
of vehicles electric or gas.
Fanatics of Snider and Hodges
of Brooklyn's working class.

It all seemed so simple then
in or on bus or trolley.
Now memories spilled via pen
nostalgic for all that folly.


Friday, March 22, 2013


My lips are chapped and split
as if hit by the fist
of an icy pugilist,
this Arctic apparition
that approaches on a
winter wind-chill
where gloves, hat and boots
render nil.

My mind meanders to a
mystical, mythical
Saint Bernard
brandishing brandy,
in a canister collar
to warm my innards.

I stroll in this solstice
sun-slung-low day.
My séance with Nature
as ancestral sounds play.

©TPuma/Winter ’13.