hamlet: a poem

hamlet, as usual, was in a bind:
he had to kill his uncle,
but could he?
find out on tonight's episode
of hamlet.

good ghosts: a poem

what a joy it is to be haunted by good ghosts
frail spirits who walk from closet
who stroll from cupboard and sit
sit, sit down on chairs and join us

and there is nothing better,
and there is nothing heavenlier
than to be joined, joined without seam.

saturn devouring his dinner: a poem

our good thanks to the best expert in electrical toil controls
(i'm his pal)
and our thanks to jesus, who is god, and the holy spirit,
who is also god
(no foolin')

i'm his pal