clumsy
stumble
wobble
nearly fall
obstacles define you
navigation
of a wall
tends to misalign you
breathing ragged
eyesight blurry
strategy
a mess
don’t be jagged
what’s your hurry?
long live
Clumsiness!
..
Friends, I am still in the running for Johnny Depp’s The People’s Artist competition. If you would like to vote for me, this is the link:
peoplesartist.org/2026/g-bowers
This round’s voting is through May 22nd. Thank you!
you get taken out of the thusfar when you die
and are brought back when you are reborn.
flour and water are mixed and flattened
and briefly brought to flame and tortilla life
reborn how?
your birthday comes and a You comes to memory.
and the tortilla encases spiced meat and green chilies
and a mix of cheeses
a poem you wrote long ago is reread
and the reader hears your voice, thinks your thoughts.
and is plated with salsa and sour cream
and a cooling mix of shredlettuce and tomato dice
you will be dreamt. a cousin will mention you,
sounding like you. there are photo-traces of you.
and the diner carefully puts salsa on every bite,
sour cream on some, and when the burrito is gone
it becomes an indivisible part
of the diner’s thusfar.
one eye squinted shut the other bleary
nightshirt x-men ’97 underwear camo (????)
pills to take teeth to clean stubble to shave away
then a shower washes evil away
and coffee provides a fortifying elixir
..
five days a week for more or less 150 weeks
this is the way things begin
the odd and reassuring way I say
“gentleman, start your engine”
mosaic stochastic
few variables
but infinite possibilities
myriad myriad patterns
..
diced turnip floats
and crowds into an array
and the dicer of the turnip
suddenly remembers a byzantine mosaic
he saw in a book fifty years ago
..
the probability
of that snapshot memory
floating to the top of his thoughts
leapt from vanishingly small
to certainty
..
our memories cram a landfill
in the hinterlands of our souls
but make the right soup
and all is available
Winesap
The medicinal nature of the winesap opens
Its little black bag for you when you
The nutrition-vampire bite it
And your jingle-bell cells thrill
To a pactin-peppered fusillade
With a “Thank you!!” that has
No thought but a smile
..
Without a dictionary (though we have many)
We can guess that whoever bred the first
Winesap, getting that nutrition-
And taste-thrill, may have likened the sensation
To a hearty slug of red wine
And the juiciness, perhaps escaping
A mouth’s confines, was simultaneously likened
To an abundance of sap escaping a tree trunk;
And apple names are marketing tools anyhow
(One of the least delicious varieties
Is called Delicious!!)
And Winesap is a fine elemental choice
For this eminently crisp, sweet
Juice-abundant
Organic
Confection.
Wow, wouldn’t it be medicinal and good
To have one
Just this minute?
So Mush Depends
Ipso facto windshield viper
Some adults must wear a diaper.
Cave canem slush adjuster
Sitting down makes mush of mustard.
Arse e’en longa vita brevis
Glaze and chickens lay a premise.
In memoriam starstuff Bill hums
Here’s to William Carlos Williams.
Cathedral Rock
If you hear organ music
It is your imagination.
If you feel a vorticular hug
It is marketing.
If, though, you feel you are receiving
A message
When you look silently at this rock array…
You are.
You may commune if you wish and are capable.
You are neither welcome nor unwelcome.
The rest of the message
Is an adjustment of your importance.
Glazed Clayscape
The edge of the table is an interface
Between this world
And the next. In this up-close world
A queen and a pawn may have roles
But the vessel is beholden to neither
And manifests indifference to the rules of chess.
..
The other world seems to be abandoned
Or in abeyance. It quiesces
And will abide till souled visitors
Displace the spaces.
There is a portal to a multitude of elsewheres
Prepared for drama, revelation, fools’ errands
And farewells.
..
Queen, pawn and vessel
Have no other world in which to transition,
No situation to covet,
No agendas.
They leave those to what souls
May arrive.
Doree
This all happened less than an hour ago
The National Poetry Writing Month 2026 prompt is Write
About a beloved relative
And unbidden my memory leapt back to 1965
That is when I met my cousin Doree and her brother Craig Meyers in the tiny town of Oxford, New York, where my aunts Zilpha and Bernice (pronounced BURN-iss) lived
And Doree was a little taller than I was and she and I hung out and picked currants for pie and had nice stretches of easy conversation
She was nice
But then she disappeared for most of a day
And then I saw her across the vast back yard and she told me that my brother Harold thought it would be funny if she avoided me
But she found that she didn’t want to avoid me
And that made my ten-year-old heart lurch with happiness
So we were friends and parted friends as Mom and Dad and Harold and Brian and I took off to go further upstate, to Clayton, new York, and then a cottage on the St. Lawrence River and Thousand Islands
And I never saw Doree again but there was occasional news and I came close to writing her a letter but was too reluctantly shy
The last I had heard of her was she joined the Navy
..
And I have just read her obituary
She died just four months ago
“Doree Bernice Meyers Harrold passed peacefully on October 19, 2025, surrounded by love and prayer.
Raised in Endicott, New York, she was the daughter of the late Harry Lyman and Claire Scarlett Meyers. She is survived by her brother, Craig Meyers, and his three children; her two grandsons, Ethan and Andrew Thomas; her sister in Christ, Rita; and her beloved niece, Allison. She was preceded in death by her son, Jason, who passed away in December 2011.”
A wave of regret and sorrow is on its way. I never wrote her
“A meaningful influence in Doree’s early life was her great-aunt, Zilpha Aylesworth Bowers, a devoted teacher and mentor who passed in 1993 and helped shape Doree’s love of learning, service, and independence.”
Aunt Zilpha had suitors but never married. She sent me, knowing I was an aspiring artist, a book about my illustrator relative Franck Taylor Bowers. Later she convinced me to pay her another visit, saying “It is later than you think.” My brother Harold and I went to see her in the late 80s
“During her military career, Doree received numerous awards and commendations, including the Navy Achievement Medal (3), Good Conduct Medal (4), Naval Reserve Meritorious Service Medal (2), National Defense Service Medal (2), and the Armed Forces Reserve Medal (2). She was transferred to the Fleet Reserve on January 1, 2001, marking the culmination of a lifetime of dedication, service, and patriotism.”
She attained the rank of Yeoman First Class (YN1)
She gave the Navy twenty years of her life
I am stunned with her loss and and
And angry with myself for never reaching out
I hope she is enjoying a Yeoman’s heaven
I am proud to be her cousin.
one thing you can say about him: he tells it li e it .
one thin
one thi g y u can s y abo th m is he g ts t I gs d ne.
one t i g you can s
..
th
o po it of
d sent rat on
is
integration
One with Clay, Image and Text 