My back seized up

My back seized up,
locking into place like a fold-up dime store ruler,
all angles and joints made to move,
but made in China, made cheap,
all cracked plastic and inferior alloys,
that work for a while, doomed to die.

Coffee talk

Coke was "the pause that refreshes."
Our pause sustains and explores,
building like birds a nest of shared moments.
We walk in. We order. He pours.

One hot, one cold, punch the card,
such a small price to open a door.
Heft of cup, bitter but sweet,
it's only coffee talk, but it's more.

I am Superman, Einstein, and Johnson,
by turns laughing or silent in thought,
amazed at my perfect good fortune.
You teach and I'm happily taught,

or maybe I show you a difference,
or point out some lines in a book,
and deepen our sense of wonder
at the paths that each of us took.

Another sip brings up the movies,
those captive slices of life.
We both love the real ones
that stab the heart like a knife.

But too soon my cup comes up empty,
and then to our watches we peek,
and coffee time's over, but take heart;
we'll do it again in a week.

Liftoff

(Note: I wrote this long before the shuttle disaster and don't want to change the name of the shuttle in the piece now)
-------------------------------------


Columbia rears up straining on the pad
a forty story phallus leaking lox,
steaming and streaming in the flat Florida sunshine

we two are nestled all snug in our seats
the drone of launch control tinny in our ears
waiting, just waiting

are we really the first ones to conceive such a plan?
surely the Russians were here years before
women and men in space together

but they were bound into suits
huge, voluminous sacks
more effective than a chastity belt
we fly in jumpsuits

jumpsuits with dozens of velcro tabs
I get warm every time I hear that static RIPPPPPPP!
like tearing loose a painless skin
little hooks and loops screaming in protest

and the count is steady
building towards that well rehearsed climax
where we'll leap off the platform
riding the roar

and in anticipation of that surge
I'm already loose
swarming across to straddle you
we wait
let it build
and now HERE comes your thrust
and Columbia obliges with hers
forcing you deeper
the scream torn from my throat and left behind
we're pressed together by five gees at least

until at apogee
I float free
no touch mars the shudder

Firewood

Heft and bite of ax,
thock and crack and split of oak,
my hands in their gloves
make a sliding sound on a hickory handle.

The pile grows, spilling down on itself,
firewood - my labor of love
cut and split and stacked
in preparation for fires I'll never feel.

I remember flame kissed skin,
the smoke scent in your hair
and warmth, always warmth,
deep under blankets baked by loving.

Standing in the cold, I shatter another log,
smash deep along the grain
and bury the head of my ax in the ground
pause, then bend and lift again.

And I leave a little bit of me
in each separate piece of firewood,
my gift of flame,
burnt to ash by morning, but still smoldering.

come climb my tree

Come climb my tree with me.
Shed your shoes;
leap and catch hold.

This old anchor of oak,
granddaddy urged upwards when he was a boy
though he never swam through its branches.

Let's clutch, claw, and climb
trunk, limb and leaf
insinuating ourselves into its arms
like climbing into the lap of a lover.

Hide with me here at the top,
arms looped loosely over one big branch
- and each other.

We maintain only a tenuous connection to the ground,
closer to ourselves than to the rest of the low world underneath.

Pretend to touch the sky
reach your hand up and out
brushing clouds back like kittens.

Come climb my tree with me
and we'll go high enough, I think, to touch dreams.

I know why the coyotes howl

I know why the coyotes howl.
Last night I heard them
after the sun dipped low,
and left a lingering light
soon to be overpowered by darkness.
I heard them
howling, yowling, yipping,
in turns and together,
sounding and calling to me,
and I wondered why.

Why do you howl coyote?
What do you know of sorrow and loss?
What do you know of misery and waste?
What do you know of me?

And it seemed they paused.
Had I spoken aloud?
Tne silence waited to be filled,
and then I did speak aloud.
I howled.
Howled, not like old Ginsberg,
but a raw throaty note
that ripped open the night.
I howled and felt myself slip,
and the woods beckon
dark and cool and damp.

I stepped barefoot under pines
first slowly, scenting earth's musk,
then faster, heedless, reckless,
and I howled again and more.
Running now, pulse racing,
I shed shirt and shorts
and bounded naked and wild,
pounding up hills and leaping brush,
splashing a stream
to plunge arms out,
slicing under chill water,
a delicious shiver as I slowed and floated.
Emerging wet and dripping,
I howled again
and felt myself grow hard.
Excited, I touched myself
and brought forth the quick climax,
spreading my seed where I stood.

Spent, I turned from my rampage.
Shivering, I stood and listened
to distant howls,
to music mournful and sad.
But I did not voice my own again,
not yet not this night.

Can I believe in always?

Sip large, drink deep, let ghost dog play.
There's world enough and time, you say,
to share what others can only delay.

I am no Bogart,
nor was meant to be,
to give you up,
to sneer and leave,
no actor's false dignity for me,

no "we'll have Paris"
no "play it again"
no screenwriter's conceits
no kiss that ends
in a credit, trailing up the screen.

No lines, no touch, no fair,
the butterfly queen laughs.
The lines were drawn so long ago
and few who live can tread this path,

to pick a way 'tween hope and woe
when air is black and progress slow.
I held a sword, I held a staff
and far ahead I heard you laugh.

Calling out, you promised joy,
and I an end to my toil.
Beginning or end I cannot see,
slumped gracelessly to one knee
but shouted out, "This is not death."
I but pause to save my breath
and whispers come back with the wind,
"She has already set you free."

burglar

bring me the stalker, the crasher
the kicker of doors
put him down on all fours

the coward, the runner
the fleet-footed thief
who left empty-handed

the one without honor
the soul twisted black
the breaker, the taker

set him before me
and turn loose my rage
that I keep tightly caged

instead you hide
and skulk in darkness
like a roach

come, let me stomp you
for the satisfaction I'll feel
hearing your bones crunch

rise up
so I might slap you down
run
so I have a reason to chase
fight
give me a target for my wrath

B-movie kind of life

We'll have burgers and fries
and watch the kids play
after sunday supper with the folks,
a viciously ordinary day.

Sometimes the roof leaks,
but only when it rains.
The floor gets dirty.
The carpet collects stains.

We cut the tall grass,
and feed chickens the scraps.
We empty the trash
a bit late perhaps.

And we wait in vain for greatness,
great joy or terrible strife,
while we muddle thru our days
in this, our B-movie kind of life.

Linger a while

"Linger a while, thou art so fair."
The words that trapped Faustus trap me.
For you and I have lingered,
Leaning away, then turning back,
Stretching time so tight it trembles.
We snatch a stolen season, lingering
Reluctant to part, impossible to stay.

I shake my fist at time
With all the bravado of an eagle
Who sneers at the ground he leaves
Knowing all the while, he must land again.

We have lingered, you and I,
And the joy I've stolen remains
Like a note in the air
The moment after the harp is stilled.
And it is only after the lingering is done
That I realize my heart was filled.

bare feet slap worn wood

Bare feet slap worn wood.
Breath comes fast and deep.
A turn, a step, and then again
we kick and slide and leap.

Each a mirror
to the others,
same as siblings
sister, brothers.

This violent dance with blood unspilled
we perform as with one mind,
for even though I cannot see,
I feel you both in front, behind.

Whirling white, we're belted black.
Punches, kicks hit only air.
Sleeves and pants must flash and crack
as we imagine what is there.

We finish loud with strength and shout,
the Hwa-Rang hyung now done,
but though the sharing fades with time,
we three remain as one.

asleep on the sofa

Asleep on the sofa,
your hair fans out
in one arrested moment
like the apex of a jump.

Your feet bare,
legs crossed at the ankles,
I have leisure to study you,
just to stare.

Your second toe is longer than the others,
and there's a callous torn off
the ball of your right foot.
But the skin underneath
is pink and strong.

You sleep. I dream.

spontaneous birthday thoughts

my daughter turns 18 today
so this morning I'll sit
and steep in those memories
of what I was doing exactly 18 years ago today
everything is different now
except the continuity
holding hands across time

afterglow

lying spent, the peak past, all slow,
fading fire burning lower,
sounds fade, now just an echo,
we sprawl, all movement slower

passion's embers banked, still glow,
lazy touching, tracing, feeling,
drowsy voices murmer soft & low
words of love, words of healing

in sweet collapse, bare skin to skin,
limbs entwined, won't yet let go,
no more content we've ever been
than now in loving's afterglow

long letter

An open letter to G. County School Superintendent S. Mc:

I am in receipt of a letter sent home with my children who both attend G. County schools. In it you propose – no, you state as an established fact that the schools will be segregated by gender, a decision reached without public knowledge or input prior to the fact. My response will be limited to this issue of single gender schools.

Mr. Mc., your letter says that with regard to single gender schools you have “researched the data and spoken with experts.” You claim that “the facts are undeniable” that single gender schools are “working”: a bold claim, but not a true one. The idea that single sex schools are better than coed ones is not supported by research. In fact, there is evidence indicating that single sex schools have their own set of problems. Given the recent upheaval and continued financial strain our school system, I wonder why you insist on ignoring the truth and creating chaos.

Your claim that “the facts are undeniable” is easily denied. There is no definitive research on single gender schools that indicates their superiority. For instance, the United States Department of Education commissioned a study released in 2005 that found: “The actual research evidence...is equivocal. As a result of the obstacles to conducting true randomized experiments, few or no studies have provided definitive evidence for or against single sex schooling.” In other words, while researchers have studied the issue, there is no definitive evidence for or against single sex schooling being of any benefit. If the United States Department of Education says there is no strong evidence in favor of it, why do you say otherwise?

In fact, much of the research is of such poor quality that it cannot be used to determine anything: “What would be useful would be to separate fact and evidence from fiction by converting as many claims as possible to testable hypotheses and performing the necessary research. For those who are open to using research to determine which type of schooling is more efficacious, many of the important arguments have not been tested. Similarly, a number of criteria and desired outcomes expected to result from these explanatory processes have not been examined. Even those criteria that have received greater attention have not been tied to specific hypotheses or explanatory mechanisms. Much more work and explication are needed.”

Please note that this is not my opinion. It is the conclusion reached by the United States Department of Education.

It’s not only the United States Department of Education who says that research is lacking or of poor quality. Many education journals have the same message. For instance, there is a 2006 article in “Teachers College Record” (Volume 108 No.4, April 2006) a peer-reviewed education journal. Writing about the controversy over the issue of single gender school research, the journal noted that “both sides concur that research findings supporting single-sex schooling are inconclusive.” In other words, even the most recent research doesn’t support anything. It is inconclusive. This is the opposite of your claimed “undeniable” facts.

The United States Department of Education commissioned another study to look at as much research as possible on single gender schools. This report, also released in 2005, states in part: “Research in the United States on the question of whether public single-sex education might be beneficial to males, females or a subset of either group (particularly disadvantaged youths) has been limited…no reviews on this topic have been conducted using a systematic approach…”

How can you claim the evidence is “undeniable” when the United States Department of Education admits that research is limited? This report, entitled “Single-Sex Versus Coeducational Schooling: A Systematic Review” looked at 2,221 research studies and concluded that most were of such poor quality that only 40 met the review criteria and were included in the final report. Of the studies the U.S. Department of Education deemed good enough to include, they had this to say: “Any positive effects of single sex schooling on longer-term indicators of academic achievement are not readily apparent. No differences were found for postsecondary test scores, college graduation rates, or graduate school attendance rates.”

Read that again, if you dare. Positive effects of single gender schools “are not readily apparent” and there are “no differences” in test scores or college graduation rates. Why then do you say “it’s working” if you have “researched the data” as you claim? Apparently you used different data than the U.S. Department of Education.

Even the U.S. Education Department, with their review of over 2,000 studies was hard pressed to find many good ones. Most so-called research studies are nearly useless. The Department noted: “Many of the remaining studies have other conceptual or interpretive flaws. Many of the studies lacked well-developed hypotheses, and the hypotheses were often not linked directly to the outcomes being studied.” I have read several of these studies and I agree with the U.S. Education Department when it noted that “critics have argued when a single sex school has been superior, it is because the single sex school had superior characteristics unrelated to its single-sex status. These could include a religious framework, private school status, a more educated parent body, and a more select student body. Thus, controlling statistically between two schools or school systems has been the only way to establish whether single sex schooling is superior on a level playing field.”

To see what the Education Department is talking about, I read several studies included in its report. Very typical is the Carpenter and Hayden study (1987). Reading the conclusions, I saw that the researchers found single sex schools had higher test scores for girls. However, when I read the details, I found that this was from a study which compared one private Catholic girl’s school versus a coed public high school. I don’t think it really surprises anybody to learn that such a comparison gives the advantage to the Catholic school, with its traditionally high academic rigor and very involved body of parents. This is what the Education Department means when they question whether such studies are on a level playing field.

A better study included in the U.S. Department of Education report is one by Garcia (1998) who compared two public high schools. Garcia, in contrast to the Carpenter and Hayden study, found that the coed high schools had higher SAT scores overall than public single sex schools. This is a more level playing field, comparing public schools to public schools. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Mc., the results do not support your contentions.

Where single sex education has been tried in public schools, the results have not necessarily been superior as you claim. In fact, sometimes the results have been worse than coed classes. Again, my data comes from some of this research that you claim to have done. For instance, in the peer-reviewed journal “Educational Studies” (Volume 32 No.3 Sep. 2006) Colette Gray and Joanne Wilson explored the experiences of teachers with single sex schools, by surveying one such school. Their study four years after single sex education was introduced found that “contrary to its stated aims, the majority of teachers believe that, since the introduction of single-sex classes, academic performance and classroom behavior have deteriorated.” Do we want academic performance and classroom behavior to deteriorate in our schools as they did in the school in the survey?

An editorial in the April 8, 2004 edition of “The Christian Science Monitor” agreed that performance can actually deteriorate in single sex schools. The “Monitor” noted that single sex classes were tried in California in the 1990s, but the program, despite high costs, didn't work. “The boys' schools degenerated into a disciplinary disaster, becoming little more than magnets for troubled youth," wrote the “Monitor.” This is especially troubling given that the stated aim of the G. County proposal is to help our boys do better. More chillingly, the “Monitor” ended by observing that segregating schools on any basis means that “whenever groups have been segregated, the least-valued group has ended up with fewer resources and fewer opportunities.” Which group will be least-valued here? Why do we want to repeat past mistakes here?

The academic literature in the field of education simply does not support your assertion, Mr. Mc., that segregation by gender is beneficial. In anything, there are indications of potential problems: “Single sex schooling fails to socialize and discipline rowdy males, thus potentially harming both males and females in the long run. Single sex male schools have more peer harassment. Female-only schools have fewer resources than male-only and coed schools; hence, they have poorer schooling. It is expensive and wasteful to have parallel programs for males and females.” The quoted material here is not my opinion. Rather, it comes from a 2004 report from the American Institutes for Research done for the United States Department of Education. It is simply not true to claim, as you do, that research supports what you and the board have decided to do to our schools.

Probably most galling of all is the manner in which this decision was made: in secret without parental input. Indeed, the school board claims a legal right not to listen to its constituents. School Board Chariman J. G. is quoted in the “News” as saying that the board’s attorney claims that the board has no legal obligation to allow public comment, and the board has a policy “that we don’t allow public comment at special called meetings.” Fair enough. We remind you, Ms. G., that the School Board is an elected body who, if they don’t have to listen to our voices, do still have to abide by our ballots. We would further remind the Superintendent that his six-figure salary is paid by the sweat of our brows, not his, and that you are both our employees. We are your bosses, not your subjects, though your behavior makes it plain which you believe.

I invite you to do as I have done, produce studies from prestigious peer-reviewed educational journals. Show us your research and your experts who can refute the conclusions of the U.S. Department of Education. Instead of bludgeoning us with your conclusions, why not solicit our input beforehand? What you have done is write your own laws in stone, which you plunk down in the middle of the highway, telling us the road we thought we were traveling is closed and to follow your new path. Given the opaque nature of your decision making process, the disdain for any accountability, and your zealously-adhered-to lack of any legal requirement to listen to us, is it any wonder that we might have questions as to whether we are being asked to follow a visionary leader or whether we are walking over a cliff?

Regards,
DB

porch swing

Daddy's porch swing,
old metronome of spring breezes
bears me back and forth
while it bears me back.

Grandma sat here
house dress lightly billowing
holding Daddy before he was Daddy,
bearing him back and forth.

If I push hard enough with my feet
against the porch
can I swing us only back
and never forth?

If we swung only back, ever backwards
where would we finally arrive?
Would they recognize me?
(I know they'd like you.)

Popping out amidst kinfolk,
like a meteor falling into a dream.
Maybe they'd scream.
Or maybe they'd cry out

in greeting and say to us,
"Look who's here! Really here!"
and "Is this the one
we've heard you dreaming of?"