Thursday, July 20, 2023

My Dog and Me



My dog doesn’t lie around and worry.


She doesn’t ponder life and death,


couldn’t give a hoot about Putin or


Trump, never considers why, what if?


She couldn’t care less about tomorrow


or plans for the future. She is basically


an instinctual critter who responds to


the here and now, and reacts naturally,


immediately and accordingly. You have


an itch scratch it. You are disturbed, bark,


bite, run or chase, tail wagging or tucked


between the hind legs. She can be taught


and is willing to learn without concern.


Generally, if treated well, she is loyal


to her master and is willing to follow


and obey, sit, stay, fetch, sic em…


good girl! My dog is a true and faithful


companion to the end, even though she


has no concept of a beginning or an end.


She responds to attention, good or bad, in


the moment, my best friend with the given


that she and I are not physically, mentally

or physiologically alike. I am merely human


with all these concerns and stressful shit on


my mind which at times worries me


considerably. Needless to say, I am


supposed to be responsible for the


care and feeding in this family.


                        -30-


Chris Hanch 7-20-2023


Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Chances Are

 

Waiting for some forecast


rain today.


Waiting on the right words


of enlightenment to say.


Waiting for this and that,


great and simple expectations


to come into play.



In many ways, I am no different


from you and a multitude


of other folks all the same.



After months of waiting to


here from a publisher on some


poetry and photos I submitted,


I got a rejection notification


by email today.



Acceptance and rejection are a


part of life and living every day.


Millions of folks have their hopes


on winning the 900-million dollar


Power-ball Lottery at stake today.


I’m betting on the forecast 40%


chance of rain.



And as for my poetry today,


profound or inane, accepted


or rejected, won’t make a bit


of difference. Odds be damned.


100% chance, I’m going to write


it anyway.



                -30-


Chris Hanch 7-18-2023




Sunday, July 16, 2023

In Between

 

Before and after,


mountains, sky and sea,


who knows?


Something or nothing,


perhaps you and I.


Who or what to become,


reality or but a dream?


In time we shall see.


Time, the brevity of life


and light in between.


The before and after,


darkness...


the forever of eternity.



                -30-


Chris Hanch 7-16-2023

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Something About Being Okay

 

The problem with me


is not you. I have my


own issues to deal


with. Those are mine


alone, mine to own,


problems I can solve,


problems to fix or to


leave alone.



At my age I can either


accept the way things


are or change that which


I can. (I learned that in


the AA, 12-Step Plan


years ago.)



And now, given my


advanced age and


waning physical


acuities, I see and


accept my limited


capabilities.



And I have come to


realize that life and


mankind are not here


to please and satisfy


me.



Stupid and obnoxious


as you may be, if I can’t


either vote you out of


office or say my mind


and walk away, I shall


still be perfectly okay.



The hell with you anyway.


I’m not capable of much


these days of my old age,


but I’ve been around this


here Rodeo long enough


to know the foul stench


of bullshit when I smell it.



                 -30-


Chris Hanch 7-15-2023




Thursday, July 13, 2023

Good Lord, Another Day

 

The silky smooth styling


of saxophone jazz is what


I choose as a lead in to the


opening of my day today


as Mood Indigo plays.



Some days I crave the full-


some symphonic sounds


of Beethoven’s classical


orchestrations.



Could be I fully awaken


to the soulful sounds of


R & B or perhaps country


western tunes to move me.



Even a born and bred citified


guy such as I can relate to


some good old Brad Paisley


down home, shit-kickin’


country.



Mornings these days with


all the bad news TV leaves


me anxious and deranged.



Got to have black coffee,


a cigarette or two and


choose the music of my


changing mood to awaken


and see me through.



Another day they say,


one more one of a kind.


I’m not the religious


type per se, but Good


Lord, I pray—Let the


music play on.



                -30-


Chris Hanch 7-13-2023

Friday, July 7, 2023

The Gambler

 

So far, nothing Bukowski has


to say has inspired me today.


Five or six horse race track


poems in a row. I’ve only been


to the track once in my life,


and that was at my brother’s


insistence.




Brother Dave loved to gamble,


the ponies, poker, the slots. He


won some and lost a lot. He


loved betting on or against the


odds.



He was the brother who was


riddled with hospitalization


for much of his adult life, bad


kidneys, failing heart, the gout


and such.



Dave drank and ate a lot which


facilitated his losing streak


physically speaking. Sent him


to the grave at age seventy. I


was amazed he made it that far.


But he never complained.


Figured he did in life what


he was meant to do.



Had he been a race car driver


or mountain climbing exercising


as much fervor as he had for gam-


bling, chances were those likely


would have sent him to an early


grave anyway.



Might as well have a little dare-


devil excitement in life was his


philosophy, I recon.



As for me, I took many chances


in my time, smoked and drank a


lot, moved about from place to


place, job to job, woman to


woman. Suppose I had a lethal


devil may care attitude of my


own fashioning which I am


paying for physically at age


seventy-six.



I guess you could say,


given my waning condition,


I have walked up to the


mutuel window to place


a bet on how long I have


yet to live.



At my age, physical and mental


condition, my odds for longevity


are not so great. Besides, even if


I netted 20 to 1 winnings, what


in hell good is that going to do me


anyway?



I suppose I should feel lucky that


Bukowski and my brother Dave at


least gave me something to write


about today. I am grateful for that.


Winner, winner, chicken dinner!


Hell, I feel lucky. Make it fried!



                  -30-


Chris Hanch 7-7-2023





Wednesday, July 5, 2023

Time

 

Time, ours to waste or apply.


Time, either way.


Time, all we have here and now.


Time, a limited supply


As  time flies by.



                -30-


Chris Hanch 7-5-2023