Dentist in the Bathroom

It’s like wrenching a big rusty tooth
from our bathroom
that festering tub had to go
leaking at the gums
cracked glaze
a hazard to the health
of this house quite alive
spreading its decay.
The plumber
pressed his drill deep
through the roots
of the aged porcelain
then broke it out
with his sledgehammer
swing by swing
smashing
cast iron fractured
lugged down the
stairs and out the door.
Goodbye old tub.
But dentist if you will
spare a shot of Novocain
before sending the bill.

Larry

Cat seventeen winters weathered
to his credit
dodging cars coyotes and dogs
asserting territory with his own
claws and teeth with
the torn ears to prove it
now warms with forced hot air blowing
from the vents in the kitchen
curls into
a gray toaster
and sleeps on the pile of newspapers
we never recycle
saving them for him
then at night
when we turn the oil furnace off
to save money in this burned-out economy
he finds the electric blanket
a comfort to his bones.

Three Oranges

on the kitchen table
nearly forgotten,
one with moldy skin
blue fuzz floating in a dimpled soft lake
flies a nice arc from the back door
to the woods for turkeys scratching and squirrels,
the next
a fine orange ball firm with
some promise
cuts open to brown rot through and through
foul
splats hard in the garbage,
the last orange
nothing special to recommend it
peels to perfection.

Searching for Service

in a dead zone
the cell phone kills
the call
the connection hangs
mid-sentence
just when I was going
to tell you what train
I’m coming home on
and you still
don’t know

Shadow Play

Shadows wave and dance on the wall,
a shadow play.
Through the window
only bare black branches.
The cold sun radiates
faint heat this winter
while it projects the tree
to life.