alone 
for 30 minutes
in the examining room
I contemplate the stacks
of expired magazines

as though
they hitchhiked here
from another galaxy
the strange orbs
of pawpaws

fall pockets
of decomposing mushrooms
I often find them
sewn into places
I would never think of looking

as if my life
needed more music
the batons of goldenrod
       s w a y i n g
with the windchimes

knowing this book
will end 
"happily ever after"
grandma falls asleep
before she finishes the story

a rerun
of the tonight show
the willows listen
to the light
of the moon's monologue

lacking the pizzazz
of madeleine albright's brooches
I am content to have my mood
expressed by the flashes
of another gloomy thunderstorm

echoes of children
in the playground
an acorn
still rolling across
the classroom floor

our government cloaked
in its "business as usual" attire
how many fish have to die
before the epa
decides to investigate

http://www.nola.com/news/index.ssf/2010/09/huge_fish_kill_reported_in_pla.html

temporarily blinded
by the morning light
I slowly pass
a bicyclist maneuvering
around traffic cones