Posts for June 10, 2025 (page 3)

A blood-red moon
hangs low in the sky,
too late to be a harbinger,
because our doom is already here.

It’s a strawberry moon,
they say.
For the early harvest,
they tell me.

But this country will harvest
what it wants,
and how,
and when it pleases,
I think.
The moon has no say.

Do we?

Tell her what you think of her,
this country bathed in blood.

Pen to page is fine —
good, even, 
or at the very least historical,
if not cliche —
for conversing with a blood-red moon.

But some things are mightier than the pen.
And maybe we should be doing those instead.

It came and it went. The floodwater, I mean, and it left even faster than it arrived, flushing out the newly built beaver dams at either end of a 200’ long culvert,
but by then, much damage had been done.

What happened is, this beaver colony moved to a section of land
sandwiched between the older houses of the county and
the newly constructed ones on the edge of town.

And though I had hoped the flood would not happen,
I knew that it possibly could, and to save me trouble later,
since neither the city nor county would, I had been liquidating for two whole months.
 
I bought heavy-duty plastic shelves for setting the things higher;
also two dozen big tubs and packed heavier things on the bottom,
in hopes these would stay upright and float. (They did.)

But as far as I know, nothing yet has been done about the problem,
though many houses were flooded,
and my son complained loudly to whomever.

Meanwhile, my big, thick, beautiful rug had to lay on a stone patio to drain,
because three grown men couldn’t drag it away any further.
Later, I moved it by wagon then, by God’s grace, coaxed it onto the trampoline,
where it got three days of drenching rain, then three days of a blistering sun.

Now it’s dry, rolled up and tied, and is, finally, back inside, waiting to find a new home, because I think those flushed-out beavers will remember
where it was they were having fun before they were washed away,
and will be back.

I hate to joke, but I might as well.
If this beaver colony grows any faster,
might they be offered their own zip code some day?

The First Amendment
noun
I. Congress shall make no law respecting an
establishment of religion, or prohibiting
the free exercise thereof; or abridging the 
freedom of speech, or of the press; or the
right of the people peaceably to assemble, 
and to petition the Government for a redress
of grievances.

2. Amend   
no
con      sh     ake no     respect
establish       religion,   prohibit       
free exercise                     
free      speech         .         press             
the people           to   assemble,                
the Government     a   dress
of grievance

3. Men  
  o
no respect
religion prohibit
exercise 
     speech
freedom
people assemble
dress
grievance   

4. O
respect
free
people
grieve

rule of knowns

All I seek is sleep. I crave the feeling
of total awareness and alertness in
the morning without the assistance of
the caffeine in my coffee. Yet, there’s
much to be done before sleep can cradle
me in her arms and relieve the tiredness
throughout me. Tomorrow I’ll need a few
tasks already accomplished. Tonight, I’ll
sacrifice sleep to do the laundry, wash
the dishes, and clean the house. I may be
working 9-5, but I feel like I’m working 24/7.

Sun slants slowly down
lighting up our path golden
as we run from dark.

cutting my toenails.
one got lost to the carpet,
never to return. 

Lost in Livermore
Highlander Landscape
Touched By Heaven
Past New Haven
Ahead of Boston
Deeper South the World Opens
The Road Swerves
Unexpectedly
James Brown Plays
Good Bye Greenbriar

Dear Smotherer
It’s been Fun
But
Two Too Many
Gut Punches
Make Noel Cagney a Dough Boy

Steady Still
Zavala Makes a Play for
The Easy Way Out
Stay In
Clock Out

Mentally

Make Money

The Screams in the
Sound proof private theater
Echo in my head,

Anger Lashed
“Take Care of Your People!”
Channeling Tate Lighting Rock of GLN
Fucking Listen
You Negligent Maniacs
They Stand Their Idiotic Ground
Walk to the Water
Tough Shit

Vibes Off

I call My Movie Mom
The Ahl Knowing

Use Your Voice
Pick Your Battles
Tug of War

~

Grier gasps, “We are making
Vertical Video in a
Dead Cinema.”

Formerly a Church
Where something went awry
Townsfolk Keep Quiet

A Mustached Man Comes thru Tuesday
He Asks, “Hey Son, Hey Son,
What are they building? Is the church reopening?” I hope not, his eyes slide
“No,” I hide, “They’re rebuilding the
Movie Theater. They’re building it now.”

Wishful Thinking
In the Town that
Time forgot

Red Whiskers
Wished the
Silver Screens
Would Scream
Again

The Other
Side of the Wind
Calls

The Road Opens

Lost in Livermore
Highlander Landscape
Touched By Heaven
Past New Haven
Ahead of Boston
Deeper South the World Opens
The Road Swerves
Unexpectedly
James Brown Plays
Good Bye Greenbriar

I feel your breath on my lips

As I count each and every cicada

Climbing its way up the trees.

I would normally recoil–

Cower away, and duck and cover  

But I just stare.

They come out of hiding after years.

Looking for their mate,

Wanting to feel love at least once

Before they shrivel up and die.

And my god,

They came to the right place.

 After Robert Frost  

Long I’ve driven along this road in the dark.
I’ve seen headlights coming and not looked away.
I’ve wondered who’s there behind city lights.  

In some lighted houses, children are playing.
I’ve wondered who loves them, who holds their hearts.
No one answers.  No one explains.  I wheel on.  

Moving fast, in the dark, I seem to still time.
The stars are far, their light uninterrupted
by streetlights, by houses, by rain, or by fog.  

I spin forward, no one holding me back
as I move beyond earth, reaching up, reaching out
toward those luminous dots enveloped in black.  

A journey suspended, a time that’s not ending,
as I drive these roads, long and alone, in the dark.