it is done

there was nothing left in the school
a dried muffin and a spool
the fool was empty and the food had gone
the sad behind the counter
exit stencil without harm
one deck to another
why reshuffled
it wasn't the answer they desired
not enough for the soul
a tunic contrived a flying cap
the ribbon wasn't called
writing above the wheel
just a shine in the storm
drinking kettles the fire was burning
when stealing the sand
rafter change the table set
chairs the stools rearranged
a bit of shelter
the weather changed the fools yipped the wolves mange
half were green and half were blue
they hadn't changed their tails
the weather eaten fireflies to horse
stars sent eaches to far kept bars
tar reach grab of ocean
whining under moonshine
cryptic goats shivering reins
pains in scotch where rivers fly
shadowing the knows with the nots
risk was shirking no one gleaning
weather shoved a dance away
it had to be ill defined
onions shopped for ladders moonshine bought and sold
dead as delivered
sugar wrinkled wrappers 
it had to be ill defined
wandering along for the ride
letters empty realigned
rippling rafter dogs said nothing
wolfing howl q'ed no more
song too lean
old times the teeth arranged
candle steamed its crooked core
wrong but sheltering right
left behind the icy moor
water restore, washing wax free
drying sun set the trays
lunch a lonely hour
snow in blithe sublime
there is no shelter
a manger a star a light
three kings set the night
stories told, scripts revised
revisionists roared writing wrongs
reading wept when wrote
truth dredging pools behind stools
wandering rules
nothing nixed the shelter
the bones were free
alive alone
stone seals open
it is done

denis streeter   12/24/17

Humility: Humor's tale

I'm one of those people who's never sick
I've figured anyone who called in sick was either lazy or lacked discipline
I remember only one time during K through 12 when I was sick
It was grade school and I was walking up the steps when I passed out
I was sent to the nurse's office who called my mother
wondering why she sent her son to school with a fever
It humiliated her, so I made sure it never happened again
I come from a family who's never sick
So when I came down sick and had to go to the doctor
she said I had pneumonia
i looked around the room to see if someone else was there
but no, she was talking to me
how could that be?
I'm one of those people who's kind of gotten sick
how could I have pneumonia?
sure I've had a fever, but it only lasts a couple days then I'm back to work
I'm one of those people who's hardly ever sick
I figured anyone who called in sick was either lazy or lacked discipline
it's what i've always thought but never said
Now I've been laid up for 5 of 6 work days
I was sick 2 days, came to work Wednesday
because I wasn't sick. it was Employee Shopping Day
I wanted that extra 10% off
I was coughing up phlegm on Wednesday night
So I called in sick Wednesday morning
No. Wait a minute. It was Thursday morning
I barely know how to call in sick
My doctor said to call in Thursday and Friday
and i even mess that up
did i say Wednesday and Thursday or Thursday and Friday off
I wasn't sure what day it was
I always feel incredibly guilty
sure it's okay if other's call in sick
they have good reasons, I rationalize
because it's generally not a good thing to say
they're lazy and lack discipline
so when i got a call Friday morning from the HR director
wondering why i wasn't at work on Friday morning
I didn't answer my phone
I had it turned off
didn't get the message 'til 5pm
why would anyone want to reach me during the daytime
Besides, I was sick
So I was angry
i'm sure i said i wouldn't be in Friday
the doctor said i wouldn't be in Friday
I'm not sure i said i wouldn't be in Friday
But i was sick, so i'm not sure of what i said
i'm often not sure of what i've said
I'm a very careful person
so i know
they are lazy and lack self discipline
but now
what does that make me?
i'm on codeine, ampicillin, and an inhaler
because I have pneumonia
but I couldn't have pneumonia
sometimes i wish ignorance was bliss
but i can't, because
I'm one of those people who never gets sick
aren't I?

denis streeter 12/10/17

yore not listening

cameras sop insistent orbs
gathering bones inside me
hopscotch one maker to the next
I could have used a valentine
but that's beside the point
the point is dogs have vests inside their trousers
the door is open and the spleens have come in
it's not good to be unaware
your not listening
the trout have five children each morning
the eaves give out each night
snowboards sail in kitchen kettles
walking space boards in spackling time
your not listening
it's not good to be unaware
the tonics are out hooting again
give them a spare tire and they'll keep quiet
a blistered bum keeps the towels wise
preaching in canned worms till the trout go sprouting
birds undersea split peas to find ham worthy
your not listening
how many times must I tell you
listen to the practicality of my words
the bills, holidays, present finding,
extra extra do all about it
pine my pores with extra lunch boxes
feeling lucky in pressboard stilts
the long jump bowed out for a gin and chronic
rabbits feed their crows to tame the swallows
ostrich your imagination. give them toes.
your tables are empty, your parties are slow
you must do and give, do and give
you
are
not
doing
enough
ask the shadows
they do more than all of us combined
the eaters and the pinwheels sigh
they too want to be wise

denis streeter 11/27/17

frivelled abone

all the ducks were brawn
blinking moon in cans forlorn
the tacos gone
corn and guacamole
tribunal hot potatoes
lunch too soon
blistering chaos thereafter
horses seam in doctor unicorns
trusselling gunnysacks unpleasant dreams
suitcase fuels doctored empty
who controls, baker or taker
sordid show, the crap tables rise
strangers blow in dangerous faces
all in frivelled places
[oh frivelled is a word. no it isn't]
cotton bald, tulipped and grown
weeds in soury willows
twisted corners trace hides of narrow tides
raiding those improperly tied
altering blows and peeling spaniels
dressed in paper towels
drowned in spirit mask
know knot crown entrails
hug but don't embrace
drums of kicked up snow
pastures gnome and grown
gather undersea abodes
those abone enrapture flown
orange spreading rafters
postulating pastures labored toes
fights and screams each letter blown
hounds in snuffled shadows
all that winter spent
bottom down to up
some eraser fed
letters cross in words behind
puzzled left alone
nonsense in a different tune
frivelled brawn abone

denis streeter 11/19/17

missing hats

sadless shapes fixed set down
washing with a britches pun
louding for a quick wrong
tables cry the sun's at bay
the onions ate at tea rise
shadowing tongs embittered trees
eating a table sat behind me
the writing was wrong but the books taste right
left with a bit of sausage and cream
none of the crackers and sauce
they get soda bad
isotopes bringing them down
dancing with a plate of peas
saucer sausage an ounce of cheese
another tequila sunrise
understanding got misplaced
under the alcove i guess
they were hungry and the grass wouldn't do
neither would the glass, and they were at fault
don't know why, just their luck
only fault lines, the volcano grew
lava malcontent
books grew like ashes, ent no good
others grew from holes, half potted, half potty
it's how the derelicts grow, have it with fries
they grow from shelters
open the door, they have cigars, they'll buy you a round
live in a topiary with a dish of soap
the soup was burning so they put it out
rabbit a dish of sauerkraut
one dish warm the other high
mystified
nose bent, belt off, shirt cold
ketchup with an odd of eyes
don't know what's next of wise
define nonsense! they demand
shadows skulk in early morn
they don't know the eyes aren't
shades don't dream, they draw
no one is what they say they was

denis streeter   10/31/17

predictionary

guidance chose gold, as flower meets fancy
stakes sold other direction
meeting tells fiction
tales of wonder all for diction
nary a clue and a wisecrack mind
corners canary
calling my name, parroting words
sliding trombone
slicing the net membrane gone
on acid provide
sick to the poor
potatoes subside
nothing to eat
cabbage or tricks lie wasted
crimes riffle rhymes
all the beds talk in riddles
spittoons walk empty, no justice inside
a full moon spittles
spinning tales illiterate
directionless horizon
no continuity
no nothing is something
hiss rearrange
orange are apples
sun dries align
something goes down
flour or egg
no matter
words type themselves
without any mutter
mood pieces strain
some other design
mothers the batter
marks the decline
utter wet noodles
trouncing out usual
depression mount
enter the pan
looking for blather
litter undone
words repeating
sleeping in rafters
searching and dratting hereafter

denis streeter   10/29/17

why the ostrich

washing the badminton net
knots floor over the wise
hinting vegetables falling
toothpicks not far behind
the lab rats were running
sure as trout fries
lice in the pudding
pick pocket deep
all the junkies store their johns
right quick
not enough time
laces undone
slow slow quick quick slow slow
dancing not meant
cooking show over
wising green beans
over and over
nothing to do
washing vegetables just to be cool
the labyrinth hot, doors no
pudding dance in the middle
washing their spool
catwalk done in
dog doors swung open
casper unfriendly
stools stood drinking wine
get the vegetable cup
v8 running
car or drink. what do you care.
isosceles between covers
mints flow back
cartridge in middle
blacken or lighten
lignin returns without a word
does not pass go
turning unravels, root looks good
grass fries for no one.
trespassing doors
no longer a reason

denis streeter   10/23/17

wiped

I don't know where travelers go
spreading spaces ill defined
alliance of trolls
patrolling yards shear dusty faces
treasure seeps through holes unkind
in your den Daniel dies
liars pick his bones
tamers shrew the pieces, horns bent
chaos chews the elements
wrong becomes your friend
tempest blows the rhyme
temples flower resist and crave
no room for dungeon flows
you don't know your there. 
don't want to
beat, burnt, wiped
don't look for cognizance
the gears are ill defined
songs know your name and cave
grinding hope in plague writ mind
gear shot in blind
tame a tsar communal
fields spread with funerals
manna of death
cover your nose
don't eat the vegetables
cry before noon.  your temple don't know
evening flows with dark birds rising
catch their talents
ride the wind


denis streeter   10/18/17

writing wrongs

tried between two faces
tantamount within
fried onion bide
ocean lines wide
only to slide through ocean's bliss
everyone in fleese
once a century wash back knees
a temple in its mist
southward ghetto tries as oceans moor
wakes up cotton balls
snorage lids puff untoward tongs
others write wrongs
lancing wombles helps the bleed
whilst lit horizons lace
cannibals in thimbles
water zoos for something to do
it wasn't of, just lasso
there isn't much to do
gathering waters move on
time for pudding. the gas to lit
stew tomatoes in lace lit lips
contraband. there wasn't much host
just creamcicles in lime lit bottles
lederhosen did not exist
stewards in leather bottoms pumpkin away
stretched but not unkind though the hips were divine
not enough for snoring to commence
any line of pots would do
the lids popped and the lines engraved
didn't matter as it opened the mind
gravel snuffed in orange blossoms
a snare of sleep
too much wine in the coffee
distaste for staph infection
nothing for the cleaner
scrubbing inward, screaming out
wash your vegetables, the cleaners off, the lassoes undone
reading untoward, a cowsnip in catsup begun
caustic as catnip fribbled unwise
the signs set up in cannibal
nothing to do but try
it's how all weapons know
and how becomes why


denis streeter   10/8/17

why the butter

it's more than you can catch to winnow the sun
bag slatched and cormer gone
wretch free when the witches are burning and lightning put out the wine
but they always decline when waiting in line
pardon the vegetable when lightning pours
two sticks and an egg mitten glove
it was out with the mix and in with the muffs
tagging for school the opposite bus
listening for magnets in olive slots
toothbrush frayed and washtub dry
spitting and crying in character fries
spoiling the nets and spinning the guns
ops black forward winding reels
one foot left of right
stork stalking baby steps
let her drop, it's not fable
fatal tales schooled
it's not a choice, it's an adventure
reeling the spool, testing the line
one to eat and one to crime
it wasn't suppost to happen
but the high schools dead
oceans of blue indoctrine pink
minutes accept the decline
limnination creation
the doors fled shut open
untoward gestures revived
sots bellow and don't ask why
the butter is wise

denis streeter   8/24/17

craziness

upstage legions of graph reform bit duster cabinets sideways spirited into fly zones shielding shelters from cracker dried spirit creams dressing peanut butter shoehorned by rabbit cucumbers salt shakering bats singing howdy doody shackled to wine yodeled cats dreaming in rose insolent guns of Heimlich maneuvers wandering ghettos trafficking otoscopes in lather street crimes of consciousness feeding scraps of persona nongratin strip mauls of teachers pets mickeys cousins  peet and tabberinth farms dripping bored rabbits sleepy oxygen into hybrid cocoon shadow afternoons contrite sugar snap peas blackberry muffins lather field mice leather bottle tricks blind blanched buttons tricky ditches hiss and moan farming toes blossom botched tea leaves bitter orange rind drying breakfast blind time holes Solomon sought two headed Cyclops one at a time.


denis streeter   7/30/17

In Summer Light

I've only read the first paragraph of this young adult book by Zibby Oneal and I know it's going to be good.

There were peaches in a blue and white Chinese bowl and
a cat almost the color of peaches stretched beneath the
table.  Morning light fell slantwise across the table's surface,
lay like marmalade on the rungs of a ladder-back chair.
Beside the table, sitting straight on the straight-backed chair,
was a little girl, feet bare, hands folded.  Here dark hair
grazed the sharp bones of her shoulders.  Her eyes were
intent.  Perched there expectantly, erect on the chair's
edge, she was like someone awaiting an invitation to
dance.

Zibby Oneal, In Summer Light, Viking Kestrel Press, 1985, page 1.

Read on...

Denis Streeter   5/31/17

wherenaut

the watch burning noses
pulled tongs from the fire
itching tong to themselves
finding floors to follow, itches to ride, films to lice
realize the eyes don't have it, the floors follow the eyes won't
dusty cabbages, forlorn racks, crispy fingers, rabbit toes
it's none of those
it's
star potatoes, ate onions, rabbit flies, ribald ghettoes
the racks are missing.  don't know where to go.  all forlorn.
follow keyboard figures,  finger the way
down this rabbit hole, the mine lode flow
wishing wells know, the washing gets done
the ribald understand, but wont cuss
leftover reads down shore, kindle books burning light
page outmode linus blankets, books bearing masters
splitting the difference
pens and pawns, misunderstanding
watching the prose con the knows
pleas follow the jumpy and contagious  it oxen acts that way.
floors wall open some angle perspectives
sand filling out and up
castle imagines
where we are living
we wonder why
if not, wherenaut

denis streeter   4/30/17

reset the watch - equibelent

dipping down the well
i found a possum shining for tea
it was grey as grass with a ruby red throat
conjuring up something a plum would have noticed
when it was all up and the powder turned green
their lips parted and their horns began to shine
it was a little startled at first, but then leveled off a bit
each spring settling down into some ink and snow
scrubs would grub their rosy wings reaching in dreams
caspers growing from pot holes in brown greens
onions leaning their elbows to harp and pine
lessons forgiving what the sloped news knows
dried as dressings and salmon toad
leaches living off sea bottoms decide to fly
washing in norms dressing in vulgar to find the divine
reading through silt the slide doors opens
two pox, a time table, a sneeze of trees
welcome wells into columns, hooks into cheese
possums of corners never land
fixtures unopened, no one to feed
settles saddle down to a dry cold room steeped in dreams
nobody called, nobody cared, nobody gives a damn
another lesson designed and destroyed
nothing was done
reset the watch
set it ticking

denis streeter   4/10/17

flounce

all warning otherwise went out the window
looking for a sinner in flies
there was nothing in the daffodil
nothing in the eyes
just a torrent of empty song
and a beaver to sing with it
must resist it sounded wouldn'd
but I didn't
it jumped me
I went into the pantry and grabbed a wooden spoon
feeling rather beat up
the cookies went into oven
feeling baked

all city dogstreams go down center
where the dogs began to fly
out the noise indoors
the kings began to flounce
don't know what they're flouncing for
don't know what it means
it know it's not from fleece, flace, flounce
it's not Germanic
it's not a fluid ounce
it's not a doorway

don't move around impatiently to my annoyance
the flounce picked up its spatula and walked away
forgetting he was a wooden spoon
another wooden actor on a decked up stage
too early for laughter not enough for crying
get off stage!

okay I set the hybrid aside
not enough information for the sandwich
tmi you know tmi!
you squash that banquet right quick!
there's not enough juno in that snow!

yah well...you got me there
I was an elephant in a past life, now I'm a donkey's ass
are you subhuman if you don't care about politics
there's no I beg your pardon
that flounces the scene
except of the flouncy kind
you do the arithmetic!
time coach!

I wish you were ashaft already
I'd set you aside before
now my taffy is gone
traded for my choosy sugar
only a batchelor would know
drafting for more but not a beer cabinet
request the floor
must resist the door, but there it is

damn shoe fly again
thought I'd sent it to Costa Rica
instead it came back with a salmon
I didn't think there was any salmon there
I didn't ask

google is an oddstrument
its present tense is not gargle
right in front of me was a spade
I dug down
flounced about

denis streeter   3/18/17

blasphemarium only kinder

sentences counter to why
shy in a conundrum way
wayward enough to cry
teetering on tocks
the spread is low the length is wide
doesn't explain who captured who
just a desk of the labyrinth kind
gesture to blow over snow
the rabbit besides
trackless the x resurrects the y
gallonteens the distance
beneath splinters
those lily white lizards of y
all bedroom sweat as noise
what the bears thought neutral
the knives thought wise
drifting in place
with the fork and spatula
waiting for a rooster rise
so wide you could follow him
behind dry buckets
thrown in the fire
the crayons melting
where the mitten cries
behind trowel doves
the trounces try
the moon center stage
worshipping acting cult
a streetcar named desire
a mesmerizing tailor
the clock fast forwards
it's nine not ten
or is it the other
the rocket clocks back
"there's no more snow your egos on fire!"
rest in that stream to impale
interpolates it's not wise
more believed in
that shotgun glass
receiving its marrow
upstage in laughter ducts
behind medicine counters
two bones chew in lab
there was no time for supper
only it's aftershock
spilled in the question y
labspeak in charlie board cry
reaching the distant bone
jester in twine
washing up for noon
the table sets arks on the counter
a wishing bone for tea
to elephant the room
labs for a doctor
washing for school
inside a drum.
the polar express
bisects each mind
splinters control acting blind
two thoughts in molecules
molecular devices
attracting encounter
watching the nose grab whys
honk its horn whilst passing by
it's up to the dressing
what's it addressing
thrown a curve in blithering blather
what the coat left behind...
missed what it said
watching the irony fly in circles
watching for dad
mending my window strawed in plaid
squalid on the counters
waiting for grads to fly
that censorless design
caught in the crack hole
chocolate by design
floors in catapaults decide
where the lens blinds
it's not an office affair
the lines are grinding
cicero declining
waiting by the counter
sadness unknown
opens the snow
petrified
the roads are freezing but not past cold
not what you pretended for
those rose of thorn
the Christ behind
squalid in the hole
between the eyes
it's creamier than I'd like
finding dead center
impound along the y
colder than spice hotter than try
in a cross-dressin design
placing scruples where the bottom dries
night disappears
defining
yesterday morning
meant to be kinder.

denis streeter   3/11/17

don't knock the landing

the sole broken shoe strings
remove their toes before work
the bower closes foot stomping
grapes remove shoes floor their feet
a whiff of fresh air, the drunks come flying
wee tipsy-chords in a ply of thigh
wouldn't tapestry Arabian rugs
horn blistern eastern side
thought scream before it was real
daftness set aside for tuning
lockstep untide of the lake'ish kind
kid in a can locked in a box
all subsidies on the side
the corner market bought none
the coroner thought twelve to nine
it was only orange after
knocks on the side with a flurry of pine
opens a birthday of wine
September broaches November
twelve booking three for overtime
nothing's in the pantry.  the coast is clear
all the flies are dead
cinder sipped beneath the surface
watching the waves go by
a triton pacifies the pastor
parking just to fly
daftness steps aside
lockstep adieu
don't knock the landing

denis streeter   2/25/17

bed climbs out

it cracks the surface
those ubiquitous dreams
surging for more asking less
wandering souls shifting water for pain
plants drink toothpicks, water cherries cucumber
wonder what will encumber
the last will be least
the diaphragm says
eaten between goodwill and lunch
sticks light firewood dressing poison ivy
the tree sap said it's much too lax
bring up the bottle and let's have a beer
or two depending on what's near
lean one pole dress the other.  it's the torment that matters
drifters twist off mark in capital haze
struggling cavities drip but that's who they are
a wonderful watershed of leaning
flattened between floor droppings illogical procession
one beer, poison ivy and a coke
matters of civility practiced their harmful nature
harebrained between pages and lost between toes
jilted as hunger pangs leprosy oud
no show met no sent
nonsense to dinner
see what to recover
absinthe and wine trigger the demise
all in place and snookered
the last piece was empty but that was fine
a Figaro in basking wax
emptied its pores and wept to bed
nothing inside was waiting
it was a judicious pour
lining the bathtub with more
a crack down the drain
coffee bilging the surface
tea to tamper down
evening nightfalls
bed climbs out
to count the dreams


denis streeter   2/23/17

cranky

shy of test tubes, the math goes down the drain
struggles with incesticide
seeking psychoanalysis
warmth circling outward
pesticide in
the subject changed not wishing to be negative
but got off base
losing the basis
London in the pool
Paris at the altar
have some nonesuch.  heard it's good for you.
prescribing lethargy is a real boner
outside reach and in the pool
legs missing in winter hide
slide some rain into winter and get soaked
always complaining and whining about something
the wise cracked open and lent some beer
40 days in the wilderness
or is it 50
choose your denominy
rest
oh my god what's happening now
really don't want to do know
open my lethargy file
the liturgy do work
still searching for the upper room
February lost, March found
pulling together is hard to find
fending off one or another
the kits are empty.  are they benign?
toss the baby ashore.  I'll catch it.
sublime they call it. 
what's that?  I checked my nonsense periodicals.  they were missing.
out the trapdoor.  missing the bait.
check the pole.  it's empty.
except for the studious inclined
miss that mine
where's that trifecta?
hiding its meaning
out searching for constables
consonants constantly unstable.  elemental.
oh get out the screens.  they're doddery again.  I already picked a spliced apple
here it is under the floor mat.  reaching its diggery doggerel
between sliced bread
get out some dough.  your paycheck's low
fiction hides what truth confides
but fiction is not lying
singing a different tune
notes in colors
how do you feel
ripe as a gray brown squirrel?
now that's just cranky!
pass me the side dish
I'm going to hide


denis streeter   2/9/17

raise the cup

the stone reminder is gone
talking of the past
kibbles in the sun and fast pretenders
reaching sky full of mumbles
sanctuaries full of wine
the last lessons were gone
the least among us
shifting and leasing and lying
the daughters of Christ mix chronos in pine
it's not untoward devils divine
mostly the suitcase won't fit
raised by nines in the status quo
monkeys couldn't have the coffee split or the boxes benign
wait in line, they wouldn't go
blubbering bleating wool
gathering tween the eyes and nose
two times a line and a crib of crab
tongue tied pappy
fishing up solutions the bombs lept behind
studied in morse and drone to daft
the orange benign
eight in line
shoehorn between a t z
nothing to adze
the junket fell off walking weavers delivering eight
nine in line
frosting the end just for pretend
books line up, pages bend
it isn't locked or primed
do not send
mary knows
pressing junkie cardboard sleeves
granting the pleas
out the window under eaves
it was narrow wide and late
some in the gates drift away
that way
a shoegun between socks in the hat
wafer in the sleeze
raise the panter
down the cabinets
dressers up
eaves behind
locked between
silence
raise the cup

denis streeter   2/4/17

mind slips

the mind is real and can be proved
but what the mind creates
is not admissible in a court of law
until the mind creates action
what was his state of mind before the crime
the stopwatch says the timer is off
adjourns for the day to search for the truth
or what "truth" they can sway
how to swing disorder
the mind freezes and swings
court re-adjourns
and the cycle begins
how to convince
the skylight breaks
debris on the floor
reading tea leaves
the witch doctor staff
someone is offended and it doesn't matter
turn the switch and fry the mother
another is dying to know
has been turned off
ready for the next case
until mind creates action
hell freezes over
the timer is off
the wise burn
slips for another day

denis streeter   1/8/17

Riddle

What do you call a person on a ladder during the day who falls off trying to help someone?

Answer: A latter day saint

Denis Streeter 1/7/17

winter dressing

twas nearly implied the party was over
after the transversals took fire
the ladies were untoward bicycle reviews
leaving ladders in the know
the doctor dawned the distance
toward flames align
now missing and rising
checking images
before the final crime
not meant for ears Oedipus wise
drinking why the cocker spaniels
sometimes white in gray
it's not always this way
it's in the ointment
not that divine
and when the winter spends
the y's go dancing
over plenty forms divide
heading rafters comb reversals
systemizing lice and lime
the light shines in grey
the hunter in rime
the greek spreads its tail
betwixt god legs
reading through filters onlikely design
draw the line

denis streeter 1/1/17


twas nearly implied the party was over
after the reversal took fire
reading their stone books in bonfire buttons
the ladies were untoward
leaving ladders in the know
the bicycle reviews
and the tennis tent opens for business
selling tennis ball pettifours