Life on Earth

 

Should aliens appear one day they may ask of us

what’s it like, life on this Planet Earth

And should their interrogatory be aimed at me

I may reply

It’s like the mountains and the sea

it’s like the forests and jungles

like the deserts and the plains

it’s like clouds and deep blue skies

like blazing sunsets and golden sunrise

It’s like creatures large and small

like floral gardens and blooming glades in spring

like thunder and lightning it’s like rain snow hail and sleet

it’s like city town and country

like a van Gogh Starry Night

like a Tolstoy War and Peace

it’s like Dorothy’s OZ or Alice’s Wonderland

like Copland’s Our Town and Appalachian Spring

It’s like Eiffel's Tower and the Statue of Liberty

it’s like Nebraska corn huskers and the Kansas City Chiefs

like Arizona’s Grand Canyon and Nepal’s Mt. Everest

like Africa’s Serengeti and the Steppes of Russia

like the running of the bulls in Pomploma

like Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony

like a 50 Cent and Nicki Minaj Rap Song

like Muddy Waters Blues and the Beetles Rock and Roll

like Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue

like a Langston Hughes poem Let America be America Again

like MacDonald’s Domino’s and KFC

like Monopoly, GI Joe Barbie and frozen custard

It’s like IBM GM AT&T AARP NAACP NRA and FDIC

It’s like a petri dish of proliferating and decaying humanity

tweeting friending and unfriending on Facebook

like Walmarts filled with smart phones oil cans and jelly jars

like Amazon the river the jungle and the online Mega Merchandiser

Oh I almost forgot it’s like hurricanes tornadoes volcanoes

wild fires tsunamis terrorists and mass murders

It’s like drunks addicts and homeless on the street

like refugees in camps and immigrants detained and

caged at the border

like plagues famine depressions and pandemics spread worldwide

people starving hospitalized and dying en masse

it’s like the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer

it’s like greed power and corruption run rampant

like Genghis Khan

Attila the Hun

Hitler

Stalin

Saddam Hussein

Putin

and Trump

I could go on and on but we’re running short on time

Life on the planet is like smoggy city air and treading on thin ice

like putrefied water and out of whack thermostat rising

it’s like glaciers and ice shelves rapidly melting away

it’s like good people who care and those who couldn’t give a damn

It’s like one huge run-on sentence without any punctuation

Come back in a century or so and we’ll see what gives then

For certain, life on Earth is like up for grabs and like your

guess is as good as mine

What’s it like on the planet from where you come

                            -30-

Chris Hanch 8-10-2020

The Last Straw

 

How many times in life have you been

told, “That’s it, that’s the last straw?”

How many straws have to be drawn

and placed, adding enough weight to

break the camels back?

The metaphor suggests we have piled

on one straw after another until even-

tually the burden becomes too great

for a creature to bear.

Now, camels are pack animals and have

been widely known to carry a substantial

load. What on Earth is one more friggin’

straw going to do anyway?

“The last straw” when chosen and used

improperly means that’s it, you’re done

for. That poor old contrary camel can

effectively carry no more weight.

And then you’ve got the proverbial last

straw which has broken the camel’s back.

When we were kids, my dad would often

tell my brothers and me, “That’s the last

straw.” And that meant, pull your pants

down and prepare for a good whooping.

Dad was lying to us, though. The hay stack

was piled high, and there were many more

straws yet to come. At least enough to

cover all the trouble we could ever manage

to cause.

It then became a guessing game for us. The

haystack was large. Would the needle we

were told to search for come before the

subjective last straw was drawn?

Turns out our road to adulthood was littered

with many broken back camels. My brothers

and I were inflicted with many sore asses to

substantiate that.

Is it any wonder I grew up thinking camels

were dumb and stupid animals anyway?

And those Bedouins must have been pretty

smart people to understand when enough

was enough.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 8-10-2020

Clamor at 3 AM

 

3 AM, I open one eye to check the clock on the

nightstand next to my bed.

I was awoken by a dog barking in a nearby apartment,

a big dog I can tell by the depth of sound.

The animal was either left alone or the owner has

passed out or passed away.

I am hoping the later, for a drunk has no business

neglecting an animal in need.

3:30 AM, and still the deep persistent clamor of

a pet abandoned or ignored.

Due to my disability, I am unable to go over and

knock on the neighbor’s door.

Anyway, I’m not for sure whether the noise is coming

from the apartment above or to the side.

My small dog is upset as well and begins whining.

3:45, I arise and take my dog into the living room and

turn on the TV to distract from the noise.

It does help some, but then I must deal with the

aggravation of early morning TV programming.

A dog food commercial appears on the screen, and

my pup who is vehemently opposed to seeing other

dogs on TV starts to bark with a high-pitched ferocity.

I hit the remote changing the channel.

Damn, a Little House on the Prairie re-run.

I never could stand that show.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 8-9-2020

Something About Dust

 

Ever think about dust? You just never

know, it blows and gathers from place to

place. It can be moved, but never com-

pletly eradicated.

Whisk it away, and still it persists, if not

here then over there, always some-

where. Could be the dust of someone

famous come to visit.

Who can say, could be motes of Socrates,

Twain or Hemmingway? A cloud of dust

carrying Hannibal in the upper atmosphere

may have traversed the Atlantic.

Perhaps a deposited flake of Cleopatra’s

remains came to rest here on the bookshelf

of my living room in Kansas City.

So, then it is that dust is the unidentified

remains of that which should be honored

and revered, not summarily swept away.

No, dust doesn’t bother me. It gathers itself

in its own way each day, silently drifting on

sunbeams and the breeze from one place to

another.

I say, let it be. Could be the displaced

Second Coming of Jesus for Christ’s sake.

Who can say how many miracles may

have taken place?

There are bound to be those who will claim

I have far too much time on my hands.

Could be.

                     -30-

Chris Hanch 8-8-2020

Information Technology

 

No longer can I recite my poetry

live at cafes and bars. No more art

exhibits am I able to assemble and

present. I can barely hobble to the

bathroom of my small apartment

when necessity calls.

Over the phone one day, my nurse

from the VA was impressed that I

knew what incontinence was, when

I used that word to explain, I can

hold it until I make it to the stool.

In a time gone by, I worked for a

spell at a nursing home and incon-

tinence, crippled and absent-minded

were three maladies I hoped would

never afflict me.

But I digress, and should I still be

alive next week, I may find that my

physical and mental acuity may be

compromised appreciably.

Right here and now in this moment,

I’ll post my poems and photos on

line, give a reading and a showing

of art in Virtual Reality, this IT ter-

monology I thought I’d never live

to see.

Now if I was able of performing

my daily constitution that way, I

figure I would truly have it made.

-30-

Chris Hanch 8-7-2020

Lexicon

 

slipshod

ramrod

rigmarole

finite

infinitesimal

facsimile

cattyampus

sagacious

prenatal

postnatal

parenthetical

dubious

profuse

barbarous

morose

verbose

tangential

congeal

anecdotal

trifecta

perpendicular

oblique

hyperbolic

bucolic

semantic

senergistic

monotheistic

rudimentary

elementary

my dear

watson

folderol

posthumously

       -30-

Chris Hanch 8-6-2020

Something About Dad and Me

Dad was in the insurance business for a time.

He did claims, and then was appointed to

sign up agents for a large provider. He even

had his own agency for a while, but for some

reason unknown to me, that didn’t work out

so well.

After his divorce from my mom, Dad bounced

around from job to job. As a 14-year old, I lived

with my Dad. We moved from St. Louis to Kansas

City to get a new start.

Those were rough beginnings for the both of us,

Dad looking for work, and I having no friends,

trying to adjust to big city apartment living, and

a strange new school. Why even the KC police,

uniformed in tan and brown rather than blue

took a lot of getting used to.

I had culture shock seeing yellow public transit

buses rather than the St. Louis red. And I

thought moving from a National League

Baseball town to city with an American

League team was a downright disgrace.

Dad wound up getting a sales job at a local

Chevrolet car dealership. It seemed a natural

for him. He had the gift of a broad toothy smile

and a firm glad-handed shake he could turn on

at will. I was always amazed to see him in action.

Even during those often down-hearted and

depressing days, Dad could pour on the charm

when in the presence of other people. The

Dad I knew when we were alone tended to

be gloomy, depressed and quiet much of

the time.

My dad taught me a lot back then. I learned

how to shave from him, how to tie a tie, shine

my shoes, unbutton the middle button of my

suit jacket before sitting down, clean and trim

my own finger nails, comb my hair with a

straight and even part on the left side, give

a firm handshake to people I would meet.

But I never could manage to turn on that

big toothy smile quite like Dad could. You

see, I had crooked front teeth which em-

barrassed me. And although Dad managed

to make enough money on car commissions

and draws to pay the rent and put food on

our table, we never had quite enough left

over to get my teeth fixed .

And besides, the Kansas City Athletics sucked

as an American League baseball team. Who

in their right mind could fake a big old smile

after all that?

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 8-5-2020