After bathing in heavy cream,
I turn down the covers
of my Procrustean bed,
“itching” (as the song goes)
“like a man on a fuzzy tree”
who’s “gonna need an ocean
of calamine lotion.”  Today,
an environmental justice blog
posted, “you won’t get a clean reading
from a tree used as an ashtray.”
Cryptic?  Yes & my computer
crashed for good just as I asked
if climate change  could cause
what feels like terminal skin-itch,
resistant so far to every possible
lotion & remedy.  At five a.m.,
as I’m  finally falling asleep, I wonder
which of my two recurrent bad dreams
I’ll experience: stranded in Whole Foods,
traumatized by the fifty different brands
of organic bone broth or boarding
a city bus whose suicidal driver
has decided today’s the day.

Image credit:Maru Lombardo

I've lived in Tucson since 1953 and retired in 2008 from teaching writing at Pima Community College.

My poems have appeared in journals like Carolina Quarterly, Barrow Street, RATTLE, and New Poets of the American West. 

I'm a passionate supporter of Sky Island Alliance, a regionally-based environmental organization.

Yesternow, my twelfth poetry collection, was just published by Moonstone Arts Press (Philadelphia).