Regarding Randolph's
Ricochet Robots: really
rock-'em-sock-'em rules.

It gets knocked down, but
it gets up again, this song
is stuck in my head.

"This ain't no Mud Club
or CBGB's. I ain't
got time for that now."

Like mittens worn bare
against the cold, hearts worn bare
scratch at their mendings.

I have a neighbor
has a dog, and Elu is
her name: E, L, U.

Dark mornings reveal
a secret wish: that this year
the days remain long.

The bees go dancing
and the apple blossoms when
the apple blossoms.

Evidence suggests
we will get fooled again. Please,
New Boss, be gentle.

First Marquee Moon, then
Los Angeles, now Loveless—
I love Caffetto.

Bingo, raffles, and
bowling: Memory Lanes makes
church basements envy.

Checking technical
conditions: polishing grains
of sand, one by one.

If you've never done
it, go look up "quisling": great
etymology.

A small wooden box
of handwritten notes remains
from time having passed.

With desperate eyes
the panda is adamant:
my ball, my ball, mine.

With sweet insistence,
we read a boekie, and then
we read a boekie.

Then and after then
and after and after and
from each thing some thing.

What greater hope than
laughter for our foolish yarns,
spun, measured, and sheared?

Science fiction is
popular. Science poems have
somehow not caught on.

I go to shows, and
being around people feels
so isolating.

Just as today joins
tomorrow and yesterday
it sets them apart.

Against the plastic
bottle's lip, a flower's stem
rests and gently bows.

Attractive people
seem less intimidating
when met as couples.

Math for Poets needs
a fellow: Poetics for
Mathematicians.

Puddles of colors
waving light on rainwater
rising from tires.

Jenny introduced
me to Frozen Teens, and I
am thankful for that.

The bicycle spans
specific and general
relativity.

It's plainly complex,
but some of Paul's best friends were
imaginary.

Lettuce and parsley
wilt so quickly in my fridge.
How should I store them?

If at first you don't
succeed, try something else: you're
being clocked—and judged.

I've not read much by
James Baldwin. Perhaps today
I'll start to change that.

Met a dog and got
her name, but not how it's spelled—
next time, I'll ask her.