Sample Poems by Ian Ganassi

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Season Display


I never hung around long enough.
So sue me, Sue.

Let’s split this pop stand man.

She had a heart like a donut.
He liked to play with railroad spikes.

Let’s give the pennies an acid test, a very mild one.

I ask you to judge me by the enemies I’ve made.

Just don’t let it stand too long overnight.

Let’s roll the snowman up in the rug and dump him in the river.

Left to its own devices
A shrubbery will commandeer the yard.

I can tell when someone has been in the military.

With the ruling of the judge
There wasn’t much wiggle room.
Which is why he was the judge.

Dead letters mostly have black borders.

We can displace things a dime a dozen
But they still come hoarding back.

Just don’t throw me in that briar patch.

The dingy corners held up by crepe paper,
The cobwebs muttering to each other.

Thank you for that Christmas pudding,
It was delicious.

A white lie in the echoing parking garage.

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Your Last Chance


Sometimes apt and sometimes adder.

Sometimes glue and sometimes ladder.

Whose bark is worse than its bite.

But if you can’t spell “pedagogue” there’s no hope.

Just remember it rhymes with demagogue.

Nope, no number of dictionaries can save you now.

And how.

Dare you proceed on the dole?

Never you mind;

For now just close the door.

The turkey vulture is in the tree,

Feeling important with a live snake in its mouth.

The adder. Or ladder.

My money is on the mastiff, hard as it is to say.

Marry come up, this ain’t no cock fight here.

It’s not an emotional or esthetic decision,

As expressed in doubloons.

And still to go home blind.

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Lost Cause

I go to pieces.
A lot of echoes bouncing around in his skull.
I admired his penchant for them. He laughed it off,

Then corrected me severely. Otherwise we wouldn’t stay the course.
It was challenging, something to write home about every day.

But the pen was busted. Ink all over my clean white uniform.
It’s a soggy letter that comes in out of the rain.
In Spain. On the plain. The human stain.

The strain was getting to me, a strain of bronchitis.

Something weird about your bonnet, how it bees.
And your beehive hairdo.

I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I’m used to it.
And the living is easy. For someone else.

Of course the living is never easy, especially if it’s winter.
Or maybe once in a long while.

Beauty is common as dirt; truth is the rare thing.
A thing of beauty is a pain in the neck forever.

And hanging around the neck of the doggy in the window
Was a tag that read, “You belong to me.”

It’s an ill wind as blows nobody good,

Strong enough to blow me down.

But who wants them? Or cares?

It’s enough to make you start turning in circles.

“You could get arrested for doing that,” he said.

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Limping In


Everything’s fine, shut up and eat your burger.
Let’s turn on the radio and listen to the rain delay.
I cannot keep this up, said the celibate teacher;
He was listing to the right, like a disabled freighter.

Let’s turn on the radio and listen to the rain delay;
I find it more interesting than the game.
He was listing to the right, like a disabled freighter.
Man the forestays, heave away my hearties.

I find it more interesting than the game.
We can make bets on when the rain will stop.
Man the forecastle, heave away my hearties.
And when found, overhaul the page.

We can make bets on when the rain will stop.
Heads I win, tails you lose.
And when found, overhaul the page.
Loss is the name of the game, while you accrue.

Heads I win, tails you lose.
This is old song and will not declare itself.
Loss is the name of the game, while you accrue.
It’s a question of accruing faster than you lose.