Tom Clausen

in her sleep
she steals back
her hand

on the wall
Jesus on the cross
above her side of the bed

dinner over
he addresses
some crumbs

wanting my old life
  when I wanted
  my present life

lunch alone
without a book
I read my mind

sneaking M & M's...
the crunching
in my ears

police car-
my thoughts of what I've done
wrong

morning zazen:
marriage counseling
ourselves

the universe
of my thoughts
contracting

before bed
my son's music louder
than mine

most of his studying
looking
out the window

long grocery line
the modest excitement
of my thoughts

jogging
just past the church
I clean my glasses

always takes his time
the custodian watches
      the floor dry

reading into it
as much as I can
                   my life

having brushed off
several small ants
an extra large one...

our child
who will not go to sleep
sheep on her pajamas

spring in the air
so many false starts
in my heart

on hold...
branches in the window
wave wildly

sweet corn on the cob
thinking of my old
typewriter

just oatmeal
the waitress says
      "enjoy"

my wife asks
if she should feel sorry for me...
"I've got it covered"

relatives set to visit
so many cobwebs
to remove

a dime on the walk
a stranger
beats me to it

she turns down
my favorite music...
plays recorder for me

looking busy
as my wife
pulls in

behind the wheel-
yet another of his
  personalities

my wife admits
she is not perfect,
but is glad I am

now that I'm over
my bad mood,
she's in one

to the goldfish
 she speaks
   more softly

myself
monopolizes
me

only
one child
                             wants to
                             see saw

asleep
in my lap           the new kitten
                           I didn't want

after the party
  undressing
     myself

meeting her boyfriend
   our handshake
     out of synch

out of the wind
  how long he combs
         so little hair

rushing
          to the zendo
                           to sit still

bar person
            sitting through Happy Hour
            without a word

our director espouses
more expansive ideals
          I stretch

before sleep
laughing to myself
at myself

in the middle
    of my life
        an ulcer

in the shower...
an economy size bar of soap
lands on my toe

down the trail
as horse fly follows
my bald spot

arriving at work, soaked
   just as the rain
      lets up

to help out
at work...
I complain too

just done
the repairman tells me
any fool can do it

first Christmas card
of the year:
L.L. Bean

just as we're
introduced
he yawns

another year
stripping down for her
         sweet corn

the plumber
kneeling in out tub
- talking to himself

side by side
his and her
computers

defensive drivers
each waving
the other through

another day closer
to the grave-
my one finger typing

for no good reason
      she excites
         me

on the bench
a young couple carries on
as if I'm not there