Out in the woods the duff is dry. The pawpaws have started to fall. There's a change that occurs in the woods this time of year. Some of the thickness comes out of the understory. It is a marked shift. Still, it is a time of spiders. And out in the pasture where the black… Continue reading Possum Up A Simmon Tree
"Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it." - Razumikhin The night dogs shift is over Day is breaking The new calf is calling But still The insects hum night music The barking dog sounding in the hollow The crows in the distance The tea water boiling Every morning is… Continue reading Kiss Me For It
I have four yellow garden spiders Out by the loading chute Webbed among the tangled maypop vine I have four hollyhocks a-blooming pink, Round the white outhouse With tulip stump steps (twenty-four inches in diameter) Up to the door I have four wheels on the gray stock trailer To match the gray truck So in… Continue reading 4 things
Forgive me if I don't join the circus The cows are bawling and the food experiments are a failure Out in the woods the pigs are on dirt They're on dirt and this is a glorious thing, don't you recognize? But better still I would move them to a new patch of ground Where they… Continue reading War Over Apples & Beauty
Life is busy. And that ain't right. It's hard to take a few minutes and string some lines together in prose. Poetry is quicker. You can do that while you're driving. Don't know why its gotta be busy like that. Just trying to keep the people happy I suppose, and the animals are beautiful people.… Continue reading How’s your life?
I went through Paris and Isabel through the broadlands to Urbana The chicory hugging the road smooth and paved Obama country The grand prairie Peninsula Field corn for a billion sow bellies Whose red barns Whose glory waves Red, white and chicory The poisoned fields The oiled fields the exported glory contorting The morning sun… Continue reading On The Highway Around Urbana
She gathers in the mist the mornings I don't feel like writing. Then sends me a book of poetry that'll be my wings or my demise. It's a compromise, this life of the hand life of the mind. Theft is a compromise. I agree that you can steal my life but will you please give… Continue reading Ask For Something Else, Nachiketa