Posts for June 22, 2022 (page 8)

Category
Poem

reroute and reform

i cancel my trip to boston
will scratch and score
to reroute and reform
5-10 day summer vacation

i have been to lexington
have spun through gratz park
to the writing center
left the car parked on the street

have made beelines to W. 6th
for beer and fish
stood staring up at
the t-shirt souvenirs

figured out how to hop through indies
backwards and pass
out fried chicken in the car
handing thighs over the headrest

i have spent the last few years
wingless in the kibbutz of kentucky
cocooning on zillow to see
the real estate “just for me!’

wonder why my grandmother
left so wounded with her
colony of children and never looked back?
i will set my monarch gps for the cracks


Category
Poem

little life was going

    A BADGE IN FRONT-
HOLDING HIS UNDRAWN
NEVER-LAY-DOWN ARMS


Category
Poem

elastic nature

as I write it is
peak of summer buds
have become
multiflorous bows of branches and stems have overtaken
scent of sunshine and sand boxes
wave pools and butterfly wings
snowcones and lemonade
with cubes of ice
shadowed dirt paths through forests and high pond trails
with pine needle grass
yesterday snow white against the garage bay
the shovel lying
in wait
remembering


Category
Poem

leaf storm

leaf storm—
sultry walk
across the floor


Category
Poem

Mushroom Recipe #42

  
 
Gather together, 
 
1       pc.    towel
1/2    hr.   cut wood
7     pcs.   collect limbs
5/16 bit    drill holes
16    oz.    hammer
100 pcs.   tap plugs
1      sm.   fire 
211 deg.   heat water
 
 Fresh wood is best, however don’t panic.
If that is not available
some old thing in the trail that trips people
between 4-8 in. diameter will do.
Actually it’s the wood that is supposed to be that size
not the people.
 Drill holes using a random pattern process.
Sort of random or not random at all, maybe kind of random.
Definitely deeper than the length of the plugs.
 Gently tap the plugs into the holes with the 1 pound hammer
or a smaller one. If they don’t go all the way in. A handy implement
is available at your nearest writer’s desk or forest floor.
Light fire, this can be used for other things as well.
 In an old pot carefully bring water to boil and carefully place
bees wax pieces carefully in the boiling water.
Once melted the wax will float on the water. A small painters tool
with bristles will allow you to…
 Lightly brush with the melted wax of bees.
Maybe twice if you’re enjoying it.
It is not necessary to brush the wax but it’s fun
and leaves little decorative splotches.
 Stack limbs, carefully leaving room for the spear
of the wind to find purchase.
 Stand back carefully and watch for snakes when walking
backwards. Probably best to watch for them when walking
forwards too.
Say thanks in any way you know how
(this part you can actually do anytime.)
 
 Heat to room temperature, in this case “the room”
is the planet you currently reside on, or in.
If you are doing it on a friend’s planet use their thermometer.
  Let cool after a few months, then freeze. 
 Keep moist by periodically marinating with a chemical
solution of hydrogen and oxygen, preferably at a 2 to 1 ratio.
Reheat to room temperature. Let rise.
Harvest fruiting body and rinse
let dry on a wire rack.
Preferably one that has recently 
been used to let biscuits cool.
 
          enjoy.
 
 
 

Category
Poem

untitled

I’m not a poet,
Just a writer who likes words
And. Punc!tu-a(tion).


Category
Poem

Jeptha

I drink so many shots of bourbon in a night, I smell like a fucking distillery

when I wake up in the morning.  The bird bath is filled with piss because I sleepwalk,

and all the bluebirds are lying dead in rays of morning sunshine near wiser finches

who warble-warble, tweety-trill in the scent of Jim Beam because they bathed in it

instead of drinking it.  Apparently bluebirds are like me, they can’t resist a few fingers

in the morning, and seeing that I’m completely out of liquor, I contemplate a pull

of the Yellow Emperor’s Xiang Xi whiskey.  The Hindu doctors say it won’t kill me.

Perhaps it is a terrible idea. Bourbon distillation is a communal endeavor for the lonely.

The mash contains 51% corn and is made in hard, limestone Kentucky water,

making a smooth bond that persuades and hugs you.  Driving down I-64 to Lexington

there is the new Jeptha Creed distillery, born and raised as they say in the old tongue,

but I’ve never tried the fare, I’ve been off the sauce for two years.

I’d hate to be like Old Jeptha, Judge over Israel, defeater of the Ammonites.

He promised to sacrifice for his victory the first one out his door.  It was his daughter.

 


Category
Poem

the sorcerer and the sprite

The magic he forced it to emit,
the wand of the forest sorcerous,
a chorus sung by birds burst forth from it 

and I became titillated as I witnessed the forest become animated
the quaint way he created,
a florist as he painted 
eight great trees elevated as knee height verbena percolated 
the delightful perspective in me he emancipated left me curiously captivated 

and I began to revere what was in front of me here, a biosphere I hold very dear
the birds,
the deer,
the herbs that where near

and although the ivy might poison me slightly the itch makes me feel lively 

I, bewitched and her blithely she appeared right beside me and we merrily strolled down through an illuminated night
following an arbitrarily lit flume that was violet and bright 

she led me into parts of the forest ordinarily brimming with fright 

whom?
the sprite 

who shimmered by fireflies with delight 
exposing me to hopeful glimmers in feelings of contrite


Category
Poem

Benefits

A late-breaking decision, not
impulsive, but 
blurry, to-be-defined
later.

Darkness lit by
string lights on the
patio, a cool breeze like
fall, our favorite.

I cross the mossy bricks
trying not to crack the juicy
coffee tree seed pods I still need
to rake under my bare feet.

A driveway hello, a
sure hug, and
delectable fire
in the eyes.

I lift his glasses,
perch them atop his head,
he relishes me tight,
a welcome kiss.

Inside, stops in two rooms,
the small plates in this
moveable feast, before we
devour each other for the first time.