Posted in Rituals


Brian wondered if his attention had wandered when,
on the first day the speaker told a story
and about 10, in an auditorium of 200,
laughed vigorously.
It happened again the next day,
same story he thought and about 10 began laughing – 

then second take joined by 15 or 20.
It happened again on day 3,4 & 5 –
each day for the week-long conference
the same story – not clever, funny or quirky,
and more people laughing.

Brian said they must have chosen well
because it didn’t leak out – not a whiff,
10 selected, and told to laugh loudly on cue.
By week’s end the entire audience laughed with them.

The leader of the leadership conference said
the participants all had a long way to go.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.