Breakfast Out

I rarely eat my breakfast out

But, as a special treat,

We took our guests to Effy’s,*

Hoping that we’d get a seat.

 

It’s half a block from where we live

And breakfast gets a crowd.

We took a chance, though, and lucked out.

(Reserving’s not allowed.)

 

Surprisingly, the outdoor spots

Were filled, despite the heat,

But in the room inside, we found

A cool and calm retreat.

 

A varied menu let us choose

From middle eastern meals

To pancakes, wraps and sandwiches,

All with their own appeals.

 

We ate, we drank, we chatted

In a pleasant atmosphere,

The buzz of fellow diners

Adding to the Sunday cheer.

 

A break from a routine

Can often bring about a smile

And a state of satisfaction,

Even if once in a while.

 

*Effy’s Café on the upper east side of Manhattan

On a Birthday

It’s nice on a birthday

To hear from your friends

And celebrate where

A warm feeling transcends

 

All the stress you might feel

On an average day.

Just a few special people

Can make it that way.

 

A meal that you share

With a candle and cake

And a car ride with singing –

That joy you can’t fake.

 

The space to spread out,

Watch a movie, relax

In a place where the elements

Cease their attacks.

 

Though this birthday’s not mine,

So far I can thank heaven

It’s going so well –

And the reason? Six seven!

Snack Food

Whatever people eat for snacks, 

At home, when they can just relax,

Depends on what their diet lacks

Or what they love to taste.

The salty types, like nuts or chips,

Or pretzels, maybe paired with dips, 

Will often find their way to lips 

Which end up greasy-laced.

While candies, chocolatey and sweet

Or gummies, quite a different treat,

Might help a craving feel complete 

And will not go to waste.

Of course, some snacks are healthy kinds,

Like fruits with pits or citrus rinds,

Or veggies, to convince our minds

Good habits we have chased.

It’s personal what you prefer 

And, though my choices may concur

With what you have a craving fer,

My hopes might be misplaced.

For I would rather choke down soil 

Than eat the seaweed made with oil,

With sea salt so it will not spoil,

My grandkids have embraced.

Sad and Numb

Temperatures are sizzling;

Fires burn and spread.

Salad sales are fizzling.

(Eat grass-fed beef instead!)

 

Immigrants are terrified;

Deportations rise.

Flat-out lies are verified.

Drones invade the skies.

 

News reporters get the boot.

Algae grows and blooms.

Secret deals to prosecute

Are made in private rooms.

 

Institutions once revered

Are shuttered or debased.

Everything we’ve always feared

Has happened, in such haste

 

It’s almost inconceivable,

Yet somehow it is real.

We know that it’s believable,

For nothing can conceal

 

The way the world is crumbling

And only those in charge,

Despite their shameful bumbling

And greed are living large.

 

I do not see a way to fix

How bad things have become,

For nature’s tricks and politics

Have made me sad and numb.

The Writing

A poem about the seasons

Or a pet gets people reading,

Though only on occasion

Is that what the poet’s needing.

 

Thus, many verses go unread,

The price of being selfish,

Preventing possibilities

Or writing going shelf-ish.

 

A journalist strings words on topics

Given on assignment,

With facts and research intertwined

For print or e-alignment.

 

But poets have a great big world

From which to choose a topic,

Their vision open to it all

Or sometimes plain myopic

 

And if those other subjects

May prove somewhat less inviting,

They may not find a readership,

Yet still enjoy the writing.

"Alice of Wonderland Visiting New York"

In the children’s ward of a hospital,

Through the W.P.A.*

A 16-panel mural

Was, for patients, on display.

 

The artist, Abram Champanier,

In 1938,

Took the Lewis Carroll characters

From “Alice” to create

 

A tale of Wonderland’s whole cast

As they visited each site

Of the city of New York

To fill the children with delight.

 

So there on Lady Liberty,

The subway and the zoo,

The Empire State and Steeplechase,

Are Alice and her crew.

 

The building was abandoned

After years and it was marked

For a renovation, so a group

Of volunteers embarked

 

On a plan to save the murals,

Which they managed to preserve.

Our gratitude is not enough

To give what they deserve.

 

The restoration took some years

And now they are on view.

A museum** in New York is where

I saw them; so can you.

 

How wonderful to have a chance

To see each vibrant scene

And to reinforce the joy of art

And how much it can mean.

 

*Works Progress Administration

**Museum of the City of New York

Missed!

His dog was on a grassy field

That clearly said, “No Pets!”

Entitlement in every way,

As awful as it gets.

 

For adding to his flagrant

Disregard of that one sign,

He puffed on a cigar, when smoking’s

Also out of line.

 

What really got to me, though,

Was his bag of doggy poo,

Which he clutched and looked around,

Unsure of what he next would do.

 

Beyond the fence and out of reach,

A trashcan on the street

Sat waiting for deposits

So the sidewalks would stay neat.

 

Too lazy to walk over,

He reached back and made a toss,

Knowing that, most likely, he could get

That doggy bag across.

 

I watched it sail and with a plop,

Land, not inside the can,

But on the ground right next to it,

Not following his plan.

 

I stopped myself from yelling out

A simple message: “Missed!’

Since those entitled might be

Unpredictable when pissed.

 

The way the world is nowadays,

You have to watch your back,

For those who get away with things

Are likely to attack.