Binary Ghost

I found that Inaugural Ball ticket from 1989 on the ground outside a couple months ago. Looks like whoever had it didn't go. The other thing I posted is a doodle I made on an old calendar page that I am going to use as a bookmark. See, that's what I do nowadays. I have no time or energy to paint, so I make bookmarks and pick stuff up off the ground if it's over 20 years old.
Happy Mother's Day to the very, very slim margin of moms out there who might be reading my blog! This Mother's Day, May 9th, happens to fall on the birthday of my grandmother Lucia who passed away eight years ago. She would be 94 years old by now if she were still with us.
So in honor of my grandma, I am posting this poem that I wrote about my childhood since she was there through all of it.


"Breakfast With Aquaman", a poem in no- verse by Reggie Rachuba

Trio street trees swaying in the streetlight-here an elephant, there a dinosaur.
Running to exhaustion, granny-beads of dirt and sweat.
Maw-maw's front porch, boysenberry jam.
Church bells on the hour.
A yellow teddy made of yarn.
Little Golden Books, an encyclopedia set.
Deep sea divers, dogs in armor, masked stallions.
A pliable Popeye, Superman, Batman, Aquaman.
The patches of green, the placid cows, the bike seat.
Lights on the river at night, the fairy boats, the singing of little fishes.
Show Biz, Billy Bob, flat pizza.
The candles, the saints, the organ, Darth Vader (a baptism).
With my own Millennium Falcon, straining to reach that great Wookie in the Sky .
Every dog a friend.
The small hairs on the elephant's back, the wasp, "Don't you touch them!"
The Saturday mornings with Godzilla and Son.
Black velvet peacock tapestry, classical ruins, the fan in the attic.
Listening to Big Bird but staring at the Moody Blues.
Prehistoric plastic monsters, real dirt, little snails.
Mint in the iced tea.
Listing all of the animals, some of them twice.
Grey moments filled with owls and pines, three paintings of boys I'd never be, a stain on the ceiling.
A cowboy on big wheels, a ray gun, my thieving friends.
Feeding the ducks, stepping too close, my split second as a hippopotamus.
Hospital ice cream, wooden sticks, my dolphin voice.
Sea turtles, blue lizards, Dr. Chin.
"No cookies, no cakes, no pie!"
The last time I saw my dad in the kitchen.
The blue elephant, the vacant sky, a scolding from teacher.

Happy Mother's Day!