By: David Sapp

And That Was Enough

Uncle Wayne
Owned Ron’s Pizza
Fed other people
Cheese and pepperoni
Pies for forty years
And that was enough

Uncle Stan
Drudged at Pond Tire
Swapping out other people’s tires
New recap whitewalls snow tires
Then lugged heavy tanks
Of propane to warm
Other people’s homes
And that was enough

Dad bought
Jet Quality Cleaners
Dry cleaned other people’s
Suits skirts slacks uniforms
Washed underwear socks sheets
Folded wrapped boxed
Other men’s shirts just so

It was never enough
Sold the cleaners
Buyer went bankrupt
Printing business went bust
Real estate ventures never
Quite turned a profit
Eventually worn out
Enough was enough

Suddenly in Rome

In Rome that day pressed
Between Florence and Pompeii
Just this morning
Orvieto and Signorelli
Caravaggios and Sistine
Now dashing from one
Santa Maria to another –
Bernini’s soft cumulus grace
Of Saint Teresa’s Ecstasy
To the stern Old Testament faces –
The mosaics of Basilica Maggiore
Guidebook and map in hand
The oblivious impatient tourist
I cut through a park
(More hard dirt than lawn
No flowers lovers or hedge)
And suddenly I’m a goalie
Suddenly I’m Nero the lost
Colossus among these skinny
Dusty boys – my itinerary
Momentarily irrelevant I venture
To kick the ball downfield
They laugh and cheer the giant
Never mind the Trevi Fountain
Spanish Steps or Mouth of Truth
Suddenly I’m in Rome
I’m guessing the Palatine
And Pantheon will still be there
And will wait a while

Appointment

My only entourage
Arriving from the wood –
Edge of a fallow field
A few busy wrens
Inconsequential sparrows
And a committee of obsessions
Chaos in my head
Abiding there just
Above the tree line
I’ve scheduled an appointment
With you the moon
An agenda in a memo
Forwarded – confirmed
Our ad hoc will
Think outside the box
Drill down – circle back
And eventually by consensus
Put a pin in it
Productivity thoroughly assessed
Actually I must confess
My regard for you
Is not entirely professional
I’m inappropriately smitten

Daffodils Wait for Kisses

Daffodils wait for kisses
when winter is finished with us,
when the callused township men
clear the cemetery and heap

daffodils waiting for kisses,
boutonnieres and corsages for graves,
precious tokens of affection, slung
in the back lot, behind the shed;
it could be the morning after prom.

Daffodils wait for kisses,
stirred crazily with lopsided wreaths,
shiny gold and silver Christmas bulbs,
and small flags, small salutes.

Daffodils wait for kisses,
stirred with the ugly grit,
sod, gravel, brick, broken streets,
the hides of flattened opossum, raccoon
and a poor child’s dead cat.

Daffodils wait for kisses,
stirred with perfect, plastic flora,
molded at the factory, perpetually
blooming through blowing snow.

Daffodils wait for kisses,
flung with red and pink roses,
a sad romance for old sweethearts;
the white lilies Gabriel offered to Mary
in Renaissance Annunciations;

and the electric yellow, the nubile scent,
their seductive upturned cups,
pursed lips ringing open-mouthed Os,
daffodils waiting for kisses.

Reluctant Lothario

Reluctant lothario
Perversely I am happy
Possibly ecstatic
The annoying irises
Antitheses along
The stone wall
Yellow white and
Violet debauchery
Are finished
After a few fleeting
Days in June
Only their capricious
Departures remain
Yes yes of course
They were stunning
Succulent vulvas splayed
For my perusal for
Eyes thumb and finger
But now I’m grateful
At last relieved
There’s no presumption
I’ll succumb
To their seduction

###

David Sapp is a Pushcart nominee. His work appears widely in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. His publications include several chapbooks; a novel Flying Over Erie; a book of poems and drawings, Drawing Nirvana; and a memoir in poetry and prose titled The Origin of Affection.