Poems and Songs in the Darby Novels

Ocean Blues in Plenty

Fears of scarcity seem like an ancient superstition.
Crowds shop instead of breaking windows.
Great rolls of time unravel. Only Darwin complains
that there is vengeance in a stool.
Philosophers favor memorial services for ideas over ideas.
A man named Edgar photographs poisoned fruit.
Darwin writhes.


Howard Elman and the Contrarian Voice

You never made big money.
But earned what I got.
Not hard to do when it’s not much.
You only formed two worthwhile friendships.
Yes, Ollie Jordan and Cooty Patterson.
A reprobate and a hermit,
neither Jeffersonian nor Belichickian Patriots.
Served my country best I could,
worked, worked,


About My Mother

Listening for the Soothing Sound

Sounds muted in life are raucous in memory.
The nun with the clapper
at St. Joe's prepared me
for the hut-horp of the Army
parade field. "Hippo-hoppo
who got the moppo?" sang
the drill sergeant.
"Your left ... your left ... your left right left."
I loved


About the Writing Craft

A Tad

Most of us work alone,
most of us are uncomfortable relating to them.
We watch them, we mingle with them,
but we are never quite among them.
They are suspicious of us—and rightly so—
for we shaped them,
from the Declaration of Independence to Mein Kampf,