I'm a retired teacher and school administrator and I've written poetry, seriously and less than seriously, since I was a teenager. It's only recently that I've taken seriously the idea of sharing my poems beyond these four walls—where they're met with great acclaim by my wife and sometimes by my daughter—and my poems have appeared in journals, e-zines, and anthologies. My chapbook, Exactly Like Love, is published by Osedax Press, and a second printing will be available momentarily for those holding their breath.
Peter Higgs, discoverer of the Higgs Boson or "God particle"
In Favor of Sturdy Shoes
Scientists say they have proven the existence of the Higgs Boson, sometimes called the God particle — a never-before-seen subatomic particle long thought to be a fundamental building block of the universe. -CNN
Here comes Higgs, but with God riding shotgun,
so hold any plans we’ve made for our lives
unfolding haphazard and ruinous.
Instead, we’re here and full speed ahead
with the weighing and measuring
we never cared about in days gone by,
finally able to identify what keeps us stately and plump
--and never even knowing if this is the real Higgs,
or some imposter Higgs, perhaps the often dangerous
but light-hearted one, maybe even some other boson
we just stumbled upon, whistling past the graveyard
of this is where we’re headed--who cares so long
as our feet are firmly on the ground and we don’t
go spinning off this planet like a plate?
He’s Engaged to Write a Valentine’s Sonnet
Damn, it’s Valentine’s, time for a poem of love.
Trouble is everyone I know is lonely—
my own daughter’s in despair; hasn’t had a guy since when.
Nothing I say makes it hurt less; worse when I try.
My old pal, immutable, his roving eye
still on every ass that moves, now the cleaning lady,
then the checkout girl who smiles kindly as the old man
makes small talk, fumbles for change. Finally alone
he roams the ‘net in hopes of a sign his parts will work.
So what can I offer this occasion my contract requires?
Life sucks the big one? Or this kinder truth:
It’s the shortest month
of what’ll someday seem the shortest life—
but at least we’re only stuck in it a while.
© 2016 Alan Walowitz
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