womens march

Second Day Chili

Potent comfort steams off thick blue bowls of

Yesterday’s chili

Seems that which is mulled, mused

Holds  solace flavored seasoning

Like poems that sit overnight on laptops


Into profound silence of approaching chill

Edging mostly eastward

Swarms of  Canadian and Snow Geese

Gyre as one

Undoubtedly distinct voices

Now that hushed Lawn mowers and leaf blowers

Are a muted majority

Reserved for emerging spring.


Hands cupped around the blends of Second Day Chili

We eschew cable tv

We devour  nostalgia from

Name that Tune

Boggle, WordTwist, CatchPhrase

Cackling brashly over the shadows

as our old brains try to connect

Nuggets of  timeworn Golden Oldies.


But mostly it about us.

Finding ties in times of disparate reasoning

Fueled by spices

Of second Day Chili


Drury Lane

Now. We ALL know

The Muffin Man

Do we not?

Since his move to Drury Lane.

(Depends on which word one emphasizes)

Do you really know this nursery rhyme? Check here.

Reciting his song

Repeating his chant

Drowning in brownie batter

Eating his cheap breads

(that he tied to string

To draw the hungry home)

Cooked to a pastel pink

We didn’t know his st0ry

As we blindly

Recited his song

His delicacies:

Glazed Dough-Nut

Big Apple Turn Overs

Arsenic apples

Bare Claws

Lady Fingers


We trip over mortar and pestilence


death-by-muffin Death by Muffin  The Pastry Diva