THE COST OF THESE CASUAL THINGS

I ring the doorbell of your house
A dog barks
And someone shouts, “Wait.”

I ring the doorbell of your house
Your dog barks
And someone shouts, “Wait.”

It feels like I’ve been waiting for
feels like I’ve been waiting for
A work of fiction
It feels like I’ve been waiting for
A loss of friction
In my heart

Introduced by poetry
I say, you penned 
all the best lines

That metaphor with apple juice
Alliteration
And those great rhymes

It feels like I’ve been waiting for
A perfect rhythm
It feels like I’ve been waiting for
A rare precision
All the time

Maybe I know that you love me
Maybe I don’t really care 
Or maybe I don’t fully believe
That I deserve to be there 

What do they say
Any book that would have me for a chapter
What a messed-up thing
But what we don’t always catch in our day-to-day living
Is the cost of these casual things
The cost of these casual things…

The Cost of These Casual Things

Turn off the radio
Turn off the Spotify
Turn on the way you look at everything
That passes

Every car with its windowpanes
Pressing up against the rain
Splintering light into its halting haziness 
Constituent parts

Over and over the bridge
Upward and on to the nighttime
Going somewhere
Driver beware 
Into the right time
Is there a right time
Or is the time just right.

It’s the frame of a factory
That once was and again will be
Every mile on this long highway
Could be the same mile

Every touch of the light breaks through
Every shadow that touches you
Every car in this rolling plain
Seems to combine in rhyme

As we go
Over and over the bridge
Upward and on to the nighttime
Going somewhere
Driver beware 
Into the right time
Is there a right time
Or is the time just right.

I don’t want inertia
To be my driver
I only want to go
Where I go

I don’t want momentum
To be my driver
I only want to go
When I go

Aaron Mayer Frankel
March 2, 2025

The Right Time

This Crusty Cafe

It’s a subtle illusion
A sudden driving rain
Sending us scattering
Trying to find our way again

And we have no umbrella
Nothing to protect us with
And the wind gales are rattling
Knocking all our senses in

So then soaked and confused
Scurrying up the way 
We stumble upon 
In an unknown location
A crusty cafe

Where a day-old cream Danish
That’s discounted and confused
Invites us to remove it
From its unwanted tray of food
And from that first bite
Where the flavor explodes
And from that first taste
The ether is soothed 
in an unknown location
This crusty cafe

Thinking how the simplest things
Like wind and rain or baked goods
Can batter us around
And then soothe us again

So soaked and confused
Scurrying up the way 
We stumble upon 
In an unknown location
A crusty café
This crusty café.

Aaron Mayer Frankel

This Crusty Cafe

Turtles

Yesterday when we were rowing in the pond and I said,
“Lots of little turtles round here.”
Yesterday when we were rowing in the pond and I said,
“Lots of little turtles round here.”

Don’t take me back to the darkness
Don’t take me back to the darkness
Don’t take me back to the darkness
Cause there are lots of little turtles round here.

I think that I might have these feelings just for you 
But I don’t quite remember your name
A child is a child who’s pretending that he wants to be 
He wants to be a child again.

Don’t take me back to the sadness
Don’t take me back to the joy
Just take me back to the darkness
Cause there are lots of little turtles round here.

Birthday party swimming in the pool
But it’s a cyclone that’s roaming in my mind
How can you process something you don’t understand
When you don’t even have the language at the time 

Don’t take me back to the darkness
Don’t take me back to the darkness
Don’t take me back to the darkness
Cause there are lots of little turtles round here.

I can see it through those eyes 
Black and damp and misty in the mist.
Vision is a fist
When its been decades since the picture did exist. 

Don’t take me back to the weirdness
Don’t take me back to the joy
Just take me back to the darkness
Cause there are lots of little turtles round here.

Aaron Mayer Frankel
4/5/25

Turtles

The trail went 
More or less parallel 
With Green Bay Road 
From Lake Forest 
More or less 
Thirty miles  
North of downtown 
 
I used to ride 
My bicycle 
On this trail 
On Saturdays 
All the way 
To downtown 
 
How can I escape? 
We all want to escape. 
How can I breathe free? 
We all want to breathe free. 
 
Well I’m starting  
to think about 
where I want to go 
and when I get there 
if I will turn around 
I don’t know 
And if I’m sidetracked 
On the ride 
It’s not a sin 
As long as I’m 
On the way 
To downtown. 
 
I don’t want to be late. 
I know it’s going to be great. 
How can I breathe free? 
We all want to breathe free.

The Trail

THE OTHER SIDE OF PHILLY 

We come from the darkness 
To the fog 
Wondering where the highway 
Will let us off 
On the other side of Philly 
Where are the houses might be pretty 
It almost makes me laugh 
 
We come with our luggage  
And our hopes 
Wondering if the town 
Will have nice folks 
On the other side we wonder 
With a hidden dizzy hunger 
That almost makes us laugh. 
 
We come from the darkness 
To the day 
The morning’s crusty waiter 
seems okay 
On the other side of Philly 
Hoping that our mission isn’t silly, 
And that it isn’t rash 
 
Home is  
Where our hearts go 
Tenderly 
A risk is not a dream 
If it’s meant to be 
 
We come from the fireworks 
To the dawn 
The park on the corner 
seems forlorn 
We find a sorry drooping swing set 
And use it as a sling shot 
To catapult us on 
 
On the other side of Philly 
On the other side of Philly 
 
Home is… 



The Other Side Of Philly

I go to Polk Street once a week
Where you make us 
Chicken stir fry with Bananas Romanoff
In a quiet room on the second floor
With a view of a little park
Its pine and ash trees 
In the sun

I wonder if we’re done
And I wonder if you are the one
Don’t go
That’s my voice
Whispering in my ear

It’s hard to know 
If talk is cheap
When my words are like
A thrift shop in the Haight
With a rusting gate
And suddenly you’re on to me
And the wok is steaming endless
There are t-shirts on the floor 

I wonder if we’re done
I wonder if you are the one
Don’t go
That’s your voice
Whispering in your ear

It’s like a game of telephone
The old ones with the different tones
And when will we really hear
What either of us means to say

I wonder if we’re done
And I wonder if you are the one
Don’t go
That’s my voice
Whispering in your ear
That’s your voice
Whispering in my ear

8/29/23  Aaron Mayer Frankel

Aaronmayerfrankel.com






Polk Street

And so it begins
So it begins
Rain washing over mountains
Sweeping the dead leaves away

A small little town
With bird song around
Rain washing over mountains
Sweeping the dead leaves away

First there’s an ending
That we try to get by
Like a road that’s under construction
With its great big sign

It paves over June
And leaves you in ruins
Then the only street that invites passage
Brushes the city away

To a small little town
With friends all around
Rain washing over mountains
Sweeping the dead leaves away

First there’s an ending
That we try to get by
Like a road that’s under construction
With its great big sign

And so it begins
So it begins
Rain washing over mountains
Sweeping the dead leaves away 


Aaron Mayer Frankel

Pinned to spotlight

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