Carl Palmer Poems

My pooch is not named Rover, Fluffy, Spot or Rex.
I wanted something different, so I named my puppy, Sex.
To renew my doggie’s license. I went down to City Hall.
“I’d like a license for Sex”, I said. He said, “Wouldn’t we all? ”
...

she rubs my head
runs her fingers across my face
and she cries
she holds me tight
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into the menu smiling
cheeks reflect candlelit
white tablecloth islands
amid the carpeted scurry
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Ponderings


Moonless shadows flicker from an ebbing
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Hurry Up and Wait

Sir, permission to speak, major sir. Go ahead, private.
Sir, what time is the 10 o'clock inspection, major sir?
...