Praise for March (published in Huntingdon College literary magazine)

March is a month unto itself.
Maims the skittery pigeon's brain
And buckles Robin's red breast.
It is an acid test for flaws in phlox
And sets standards too chilled for spring.
Puffs its whiskey breath into cordials
Like April or May
Lifting their dainty skirts in terror
Or turning up their azure noses.

March is the gruff old troll.
Tenacious as the ghost of winter.
A savage giving sages lumbago
Or death pretending aphrodisiac
To spinster days.
It walks defunct parks
Like littered paper wrappings
And swirls, whirls its travelers
Into oblivion.

And then, remorselessly, it is gone.

The Eye-Chart Testimonial

You must receive permission to see
Our optometrist. We do not treat
Fatalistic vision. We do, however,
Have on sale many shades of rose-
Colored glasses. You should no doubt avail
Yourself of this way of seeing; as time passes
Only easy payments are involved
And these spectacles enthrall the way
You look at things for years. If you wish,
Ointment may be prescribed to do away
With tears. Our doctors, trained in tunnels
To look straight ahead, funnel each effort
And can detect at once the chance of
Looking askance, a defect we have
Years of practice in correcting.
When you leave our premises
We will have cured your eyes
Of any irregularities or nemeses
Such as the belief, which we guarantee
Will be relieved, that all around you
What you see is lies. Our slogan is,
"When we are through with you,
You won't believe your eyes!"
By William Pitt Head