RITUAL (second tier decorations)

In the cold attic they wait.
The heat of summer long gone,
the chill of December wheezing through
eave vents, we pull down drop-stairs
and peer into the darkness above.
Flip the light, start shifting boxes
hand them down to the second floor.
Sort house decorations to the top of the stairs,
boxes of ornaments and tree lights
into the spare room.
Boxes done, light off, stairs up.

Begin the first floor boxes.
Sorting and primping.
The singing mouse goes on the TV.
The snowman collection to the mantel.
The Santa collectibles to the breakfront.
The mistletoe to the doorway, and the wire mesh basket
to the finishing nail on the back of the front door
to await Christmas cards that will overflow.
The tree light box decorations to the end of the sofa
next to the three-foot stuffed Santa.
Another Santa sits on the stairs awaiting cover of darkness
to trip someone. (Usually me.)

And on and on it goes for hours
until all the good decorations
are out and the second tier decorations
are back in their boxes, the boxes that go
up to the attic to await the passing
of the holiday when all the ornaments
will be together again in the silent darkness
of our attic.

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used without written permission.

BTW - That chemistry set in the back never did come to anything good except in the decision not to pursue the sciences...
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FINGERNAILS

Fingernails scratch the paper,
They point at a blank page.
A voice says, "Write something!"
So, he writes: "Fingernails
scratch the paper,
They point to a blank page."
#468
1974

-- Copyright © 1974, 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.
First published in DAYS YOU KNEW ME.
Written overlooking the baseball fields in Brookdale Park, Montclair/Bloomfield, N.J.

ONE TRUE LOVE

ONE TRUE LOVE

Did you spend the last fifty years with her
in the morning kitchen worrying together
through evening bouts of doubt
Are the children safe?
The grand kids okay?
Will the K-car start tomorrow?
Can we afford to fix it if it won’t?
What’s on cable TV tonight?
Is your dog getting enough cheese?

Did your one true love leave you
looking like a frigging penguin
standing alone outside the prom hall
with that stupid look on your face?

What about those wild nights
and the long rides
and the long talks?
Where did those endless roads lead?
But for your one true love to someone else
and you shifting through an empty cupboard.

Have you carried around your broken heart
crushed so long ago by your one true love
or have you mended and moved on
to find the one other person in this world
who could love you this much?

Do the stitches in your mended heart still sting?
Do they twitter and twitch with reminded regrets
on those days when nothing will go your way
and you long for the one true love who got away,
forgetting for an instant the one who holds your hand?

- By Anthony Buccino
From AMERICAN BOY: Pushing Sixty

On Kindle

Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino
Photo and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

WHAT'S IT LIKE TO BE

What’s it like to be
Married to different people
At different times, of course,
But how is it different?
Do you spend a lot of time
Comparing this one with that one?
Do you try not to repeat mistakes
That you’ve learned?
What is it like
Each day to be with
Somebody who is
Different than the one
You thought you’d spend
The rest of your days with?

- By Anthony Buccino
From AMERICAN BOY: Pushing Sixty
On Kindle
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.

FIRST KISS

No wonder he had to steal a kiss! (1970)

My first kiss came on a cold November night,
A Saturday after Thanksgiving in a stranger’s church.

My first kiss was a surprise, not for me,
I’d been thinking about it all night.
But she was surprised when she tried
to shake my hand in peace I charged in
and stole that kiss.

Her light blue eyes – I am still remembering
And the round cheeks of her smiling face
That Saturday I kissed her.
It was the only time.
On Monday we headed back to Jersey
And I never saw her again.

- By Anthony Buccino
From AMERICAN BOY: Pushing Sixty

On Kindle

Remembering November 1970

Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

AQUARIUM

AQUARIUM

Somehow it seemed
I got everything I wanted.
I wanted a German shepherd,
I got a mutt named Butch.

I wanted an aquarium
just like my friend Rich had.
His had guppies and swordfish
and neon tetras, catfish and snails, too.

I wanted an aquarium
and the fish and the purple gravel
and the lighted lid and aerator pump
and the wrought iron stand
that went with it all.

I wanted to set up the pump
that made the bubbles
come out of the diver's mask.

Dad said no to the fish tank
and Ma said I'd pay for it myself
and Dad said, in his best dad voice,
"That's not the point."
He never said what the point was.

My aquarium had angel hair in the filter
and fish down below a floating wooden block
the turtles sat on after I fed them baloney
in the water, or until they got soft and died.

On the bottom, in the gravel
I set up Dad’s shells from the Fijis.
Rich and I kept Grant's pet department
going and made fun of the old lady
who sold plecostomus catfish.

My guppies all ate their babies
and the other fish got ich.

I kept that aquarium through
my teen years and then
set it up again in my house.

But lately it's been in the attic
for how many years, who knows?
I know now I never knew
what I wanted
and I still don't.

- By Anthony Buccino
from SIXTEEN INCHES ON CENTER

Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

DON’T TRUST MYSELF

DON’T TRUST MYSELF

I don’t trust myself
to be here years from now
When it’s time to retire,
kick off my shoes, and
Slip into that coma of retirement.

It’s a matter of all those things
that came before
Finally coming around

to get their due
And collect the toll to pay
that appears too large.

I don’t trust myself to change
the few things left to change
That would make up for decades past
in the few decades to come
And alter the visions
the soothsayer’s seen.

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

PALS

PALS

In the middle of the night
the TV lights the room
he snores in the recliner
the big dog alongside him
snores almost in unison.
The TV show neither one sees
and neither one hears,
a movie repeated from before
when they fell asleep
at the early edge of night.

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

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