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  • Writer's pictureD. Ellsworth Hoag

Time Flies When Bored

I have been mainly keeping myself amused. This year I have put out three books and have one close. Probably early next year.

This is a collection of poems about the Southwest. It is my ode to living here.

I have finally managed to overcome inertia and grab three poems to place here. I have spent too much time trying to make them thematic and so here is a grab bag of rhymes. Hope you enjoy.

Author’s Grab Bag

Some words like eagle pinions soar,

some like soft down warm our core.

Some cultured like the city,

some are rustic like the town.

Some gritty, the earth we dig,

some meaty like ripened fig..

Some have meaning clear and rich,

some have connotation vetch.

Some sound harsh like raven call,

some melodic to enthrall.

From such assemblage we choose—

even second meanings use.

This the chore of authorship

for each nuance has a grip.

The sum

of man’s knowledge

is wrote in black and white,

a Boolean-algebra base

is used.

For we

sort our knowledge

using algorithms

either/or, neither/nor, and, not—




energy or matter,

physical or spiritual—

we sort.

No fit

is conundrum

thus we lay it aside

and await science to define

its place.

Life’s task

is to sort out,

order Cosmo’s chaos,

put in place for the next man to



with current facts

construct a new order

expand on the definitions—


Dogs can’t be replaced

for they nestle in the soul

they are part of you.

Something in canines

makes the human spirit whole.

their loss leaves a void.

Though there’s another

to fill the sad emptiness

yet the first dog stays.

‘Tis a spirit friend

still vibrant within the mind

for only flesh dies.

Soon their auras fill the niches—

the man is never alone.

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