Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

perspective

  • No French Cuffs

    Plaid flannel shirts of my Northwoods youth smelled of beer and pine cones boat motor gasoline and fresh caught sunfish wood smoke and filtered Winstons when I was a kid the intertwined, pungent aromas of cervelat salami plumbers’ grease, house paint mingled freely, locked in square-patterned fibers, always-rolled-up sleeves no amount of Fels-Naptha soap could… Read more

  • World Serious

    In the game of baseball, a great hitter will often explain his success at hitting a thrown ball three inches in diameter with a round bat a quarter-inch smaller around saying “I slow the game down” – some even claiming that they can actually see the red stitched laces as the ball hurdles toward them… Read more

  • First dance

    A ma-and-pa resort, small lake north woods of Minnesota small office behind quaint bar, twelve small cabins dozen aluminum rowboats to use; minnows, worms, leeches for sale amenities, ala Angler’s Edge Joe & Gloria’s place The bar a hangout for township locals grandpa Ivar and I frequented the nicked, cigarette-burn speckled polished, yellow-varnished bar for… Read more

  • World Serious

    In the game of baseball, a great hitter will often explain his success at hitting a thrown ball three inches in diameter with a round bat a quarter-inch smaller around saying “I slow the game down” – some even claiming that they can actually see the red stitched laces as the ball hurdles toward them… Read more

  • Renovating

    Vestiges of then subtly shade the now today is decorated with yesterday’s hues accenting modern life with retro-chic shades life-makeovers via t.v. show gurus who use family tschotskes as odd focal points visual statements from an old magazine viewed in current settings; obligatory oohing-and-ahhing at the big reveal fading into jaundiced indifference once the show… Read more

  • Roadside

    Opportunities passed by on roads not taken supplanted dreams decay like abandoned motels rife with rusting signs, broken neon-script hopes cracked-concrete dreams pot-holed asphalt parking lot rug stitched with weeds plenty of vacancies Read more

  • Proclamation

    Imperfection should lead to introspection, but as a hobby not your vocation it is no small concession to make the confession that I have long since (with light apprehension) blithely lived my life minus much regard for convention Read more

  • Concubine

    My mistress is verisimilitude a pliant robust and imminently sensual lover. Her knowledge of love,extensive, welll used on the likes of me and I have no complaints of how she treats me nor she of I. We talk we love, share passions that can only be shared by kindred souls who meet only on the… Read more