Opus 22

Volumes written by corporate citizens
are piled around an idle fax machine.  

Pavlov and Davis (Keith) spout theories
that I’m conditioned to process classically.

My presentations on human relations
relays ideas about business’ social obligations.

The overhead projector’s chord trips
me like the words “empirically productive.”

I go to my unassigned seat in the back
left of the room, and nervously tap.

Academic enrichment belches the future 
for Don Hahn, institutional superstar. 

Don Hahn's Questions:

Is this interesting enough to work?  I stray from the traditional ghazal form for a more modern approach, do you find the style to be effective?

February 20, 1998  (Ghazal on Laundry day ritual)

Tea stained breath reeks before teeth are brushed.
Laundry piled in the entry hall makes a slalom course.

In the background Sportscenter announces another gold for Germany,
along with Norway they dominate the winter games.

My desk is cluttered with reformatted resumes and contest prize claims.
I’ve never won ten million dollars, but I may have already.

Telephone marketers try to sell me a new roof or windows or a driveway.
I’d love to have you come look at my house, except I don’t own one.

After breakfast, gravy sticks in egg yellow on oval platters,
whoever washes the dishes  later had better use Palmolive.

The dryer buzzer screams to signal the end of this time out.
Don Hahn, domestic athlete, now attempting the double load switch.

Don Hahn's Questions:

Are the long lines distracting?  Does it seem to trivial of a situatio to draw a readers interest?  Is the ghazal form worth devoting new creative energy on?

Pantoum-Dinner Date

Presentation is the key.
Lesson served with linguine tossed 
in basil pesto shrimp scampi, white wine in chalice,
rim crimson from her lips painted for me.

Lesson served with linguine tossed 
al dente like the dinner conversation.
Rim, crimson from her lips painted for me,
shaped like an erotic kiss.

Al dente like the dinner conversation
my date stares at a portabella mushroom 
shaped like an erotic kiss.  
Slowly she presses her fork into the meal.  

My date stares at the portabella mushroom
half eaten, it looks like a playful smile.  
Slowly she presses her fork into the meal,
then swallows Chablis, presentation is the key. 

Don Hahn's Questions:

This is my first effort with the pantoum form.  Do the culinary images work?  Is the poem removed from being cliche or is there nothing new to be said about a dinner date?