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Jim Senetto

of

Freeport, NY, US

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WHEAT FIELD CONCERTS

by

Jim Senetto

Cricket orchestras
perform wheat field concerts
and I can see
the flattened straw
where we dreamed
and made love
safe from
the distant porch light
while the stars
became our blanket
and sweat dampened the earth
and fingers clawed
trying to hold on
to tomorrows
inevitable
good-bye


One Way Ticket

by

Jim Senetto

Go talk
to the bones
with flowers
in hand
make the
apologies
erase the guilt
too late
to share
a cool lemon ice
a walk
a talk
a smile
it's a one way ticket
today
tomorrow
forever

The Whitening

by

Jim Senetto

I remember
the attic window
would form
iced crecents
in the winter
and the sun's rays
would separate
into blues and reds
as they passed through
and into my eyes.
There, in the chill
and stillness,
I'd smoke imaginary cigarettes
and watch the world
bundle up
against the cold.
In my solitude
I could see the snow
float by my window
and from my vantage
I could trace
the path of a flake
from the tops of trees
to the hedgerow below
and in time the shrubs
would resemble crumbcakes
and the tips of grass
would reach out
before their snowy burial
and cat paws would leave
abstract images
on the whitening
sidewalk

Cardboard Mansions

by

Jim Senetto

It was a wonderful time
finding the discarded
refrigerator box
and dragging to the woods
the cardboard mansion
where fantasy became
saturday morning reality.
Grass stained knees
lined up inside
those paper walls
and discussions
of holidays to come
and soon to be
Christmas tree forts
and sap stained fingers
and gifts.
It all ends
with the call
to dinner
but we'll be back
tomorrow,
if it doesn't
rain.

DISTANT FREIGHT TRAINS

by

Jim Senetto

THE MAGNOLIA HUNG HEAVY
AS THE SUNRISE REVEALED
A DENSE HAZE,
FILLING THE HOLLOWS
IN THE FIELD.

THE CAT LICKED
AT THE DEW
ON IT'S FUR
WHILE BLACK WALNUT LEAVES
DANCED IN A SUMMER BREEZE.

DISTANT FRIGHT TRAINS
RUMBLED ALONG
AND THE SMELL OF BACON
DRIFTED TO THE PORCH.

A PERSPIRED BREAST
HUNG WITH THE HEAT,
A NIPPLE SCRATCHING
THE SCREEN
AS SHE ANNOUNCED
BREAKFAST WAS READY.

Lunch

by

Jim Senetto

New York
beefsteak rye
blankets
thin sliced
Boar's head
bologna
with an Andy Boy
lettice bed
Ba-Tampte seeded
deli mustard
and complimented
by a Heinz dill
quartered
cole slaw
Diet Coke quencher
and a watery eyed
burp.
Ah, survival!

Update at Eleven

by

Jim Senetto

Beirut exploded
in gunfire today
as the U.S launched
a top secret satellite
and Miami, lit up
by the rockets red glare,
sweltered for the sixth
consecutive day
and record breaking rain
in Honduras, washed away
another village
and village officials,
vacationing in New York,
could not be reached
for comment.
Public outcry
for fetal tissue research
suffered a setback
as congress
refused to comment
citing impending trips
to rain soaked Honduras
and the search for
U.S. supported villages
missing since last Friday.
Ozone levels degenerated
further today
with the explosion
of unwanted nuclear weapons
at the North Pole.
Officials, declaring
the cold war dead,
said the cleanup of Polar Bears
washing up in Nova Scotia
will begin immediately.......
Knicks won,
Islanders lost,
Giants play tonight.
Update at eleven.

DOUBLE A

by

Jim Senetto


That Double A
rumbling down the el,
interrupts the sun
streaming through the ties,
turning the boulevard
into a quick paced,
‘22 silent movie.
Soot stained pillars
all but hide
graffiti writings
and the neighborhood widows,
clad in black,
scrub their stoops.
The candy store,
behind the broken sign,
displays rows of jars
holding gum and licorice
and cherry sticks.
Newsprint and tobacco
fill the air,
and the chrome
and red leather stools
show the wear
of lovers sharing secrets
and a two cent plain.
Old men,
in thread worn suits
and Fedoras,
step cautiously
over uneven sidewalks,
remembering a time
their Cagney walk
impressed the girls.
The shadows grow longer,
barbers sweep the clippings
and different dinner smells
reach out
from lace curtains,
rattled from time to time
by the elevated
Double A.

NEW YORK HEAT

by

Jim Senetto


Silver snakes race
through the underground
and cautious eyes
blink back the dirt
as they stare out
from the void.
City workers
decorate the bridges
with razor ribbon
protecting lost souls
from the final leap
while steam rises
through the grates
cooking the legs
of the street tenants.
White limos stand
and ignore the horns
that echo off Bergdorf’s
and bacon smells
drift in over the Goethals
challenging the smells
of boiling soap
and sweet Thai beef
and fruit ripening
in the New York heat.

Denim Blue Eyes

by

Jim Senetto


When the rattle goes quiet and the toys are packed away
And your little green outfit has seen a better day
It’s a pleasure just winning, winning first prize
A chance to look into your denim blue eyes

When your scent goes from powder to a fragrant perfume
And you lie down at night
Gazing up at the moon
Remember me winning, winning first prize
A chance to look into your denim blue eyes

My how the time slips away
As I sit here by the window
And watch you play
And I know sure enough
There will come a day
When you pack your suitcase
And walk away

Then I’ll stand in the doorway
Looking into your room
And I’ll wonder if you’ll
Be visiting soon
And I’ll remember winning
Winning first prize
A chance to look into
Your denim blue eyes

Poet's Picnic

by

Jim Senetto


Poe acts the sun god
in mirrored glasses
and Bermuda’s
eyeing the grill
with sweet sausage
and chickens browning
evermore.
cummings and Frost
smash overhead
shuttlecocks,
badminton being
the sport
of word kings.
Wordsworth ponders
the pool’s filtration
as Sandberg dog paddles by.
Lord Tennyson,
rivaling the accuracy
of Longfellow’s sonnets,
pitches horseshoes
and Shelly keeps score
in a proper way
and everything
seems to be
running smoothly
at the annual
poet’s picnic.

Dance In Cool Puddles

by

Jim Senetto


Crocus break the surface
as sun and rain combine
to dissolve the last memory
of winter.
Birds sweep down to dance
in cool puddles
which reflect children’s faces
aware of summer’s approaching heat
and the sea’s crashing waves.
Ocean breezes will ruffle blankets
and radio’s form a wall of sound
playing one hundred tunes.
Sunshine will turn to twilight
as the sun sinks into the sea
and the children will head home
eyes sleepy, hair filled with sand
knowing the world