A Bear in the Kitchen

New collection of some old and some new stuff out with Red Giant Books.

Just in time for me to leave the country for a month - but upon my return in November I will certianly be more than eager to book some readings.

If you're interested in hosting this crackpot poet hit me up salinger@ameritech.net

Here's the title piece:

a borrowed cabin

You don't want a bear in the kitchen

they make a terrible mess

so said the neighbor on the phone

a tiny electronic voice of caution

whose ring we almost didn't answer

because we were so sure it couldn't be for us

this not being our home

it's not their fault, you see

they are so hungry

this time of year

having drowsed through most of the winter and all

and this one's pretty aggressive

busted right into the house

across the creek from you

be careful

What does one do?

when ones place in the food chain

has been threatened

by 328 pounds of groggy

louse infested Ursus Americanus

claws capable of raking through

a refrigerator's skin

as easily as if it were the cake's frosting

the beast smells hidden behind

magnetic weather-stripped doors

canines the size of of a human forefinger

implanted in jaws endowed

with twelve hundred pound per square inch

bite force

tiny squares of glistening safety glass

from an exploded patio door

diamond dusted into matted fur

sparkling like snowflakes

in the silent moonlight

do you go onto the deck?

beat pans and pots together

turn off the lights

hide in the closet amongst the snowshoes

do you pray?

and to whom

what does one do?

when reason

and logic

and your master’s degree

in 16^th century literature

are rendered useless

by a confused and frightened carnivore

scratching at

the kitchen door?