The rain came hard
Pounded the metal roof
Like a drum
Relentless
The roar
Of the rising creek
Drowns out
The racing fears
The trees
Pop and crackle
As they are swept away
The scream
Of a fearful cow
As it struggles
To hold its head
Above raging waters
I slide back
the shower curtain
with the intention
of becoming
more cleanly
but in the tub
discover
an eight-legged
entity
of varying size
and realize
the entire ordeal
would prove
too exhausting
anyway
so I set in
a thin
cardboard
bridge
from floor
to topside
a spider off-ramp
and check back
later
to see if
they caught
their exit
I swallowed a sword for dinner,
and when it dropped straight
through me, the hole it made
worked wonders. I’m empty
perpetually, all this blood drains.
My heart takes such a beating.
I make it earn its place. Prove
it’s no scrap metal. I’ve found
playing god is only as much fun
as what I can control. I crave
recklessly, then crave absolution.
For years I’ve been calmly fixated.
There never was much fear
once I decided, settled, goals set.
I can look past all this stupid dying.
I can look past all this fat and muscle.
I can dig the vision out of me.
I just have to be careful about this.
Maybe hold myself over with a knife
for lunch, maybe skip breakfast.
Soak up on the beautiful sounds of nature –
on the most loved refrains of your favorite music.
Splurge on spending for things you adore.
Listen more often to the music you love.
Treat your soul to the best of your joy.
You’ll be ready to give your best effort,
to give whatever you can,
to maintain all the freedoms
we have in this U.S.A. land.
!.
Last evening you hollered
at our dog when she started
to shit in your flower garden.
She jumped up and ran out
of the yard to the cow pasture
before she resumed her efforts.
together we shouted Good Girl
2.
Soon after sunrise we take
implements to the ground
behind the soap shop to battle
Johnson Grass to the death
3.
We look up when a truck
towing a hay rake goes by.
Dividing Ridge Road
runs in front of our house,
after a mile it dead ends
at another house
which is in a different county.
4.
Forgetting the mail yesterday
you walk out to the box
and see two baby skunks
strolling leisurely up the road.
When you get back you tell me
how cute they are
5.
i just remebered
how in first light
you came upstairs
to rouse me out of bed:
Come and listen
to the wildy blooming
mimosa tree humming
with thousands of bees
6.
The battery powered lawn
tractor has a flat tire.
I put it in the back of the car
and google Tire World.
Damn they’re closed on Saturdays.
You tell me to relax
and drink a glass of ice water
7.
At the heat of the day
we come in to rest, we are
growing improbably old
8.
We walk out under the four
giant pine trees who live
along the fence line.
Wind from a coming storm
sounds like crashing waves
coming ashore
9.
After dinner we sit in rockers
on the kitchen porch
keeping the same two thoughts
from being said aloud:
how did we get here
and how do we get from here to there
when I feel ocean tongue sloppy kiss my soul
like my dog happy to have me home
when I hear rain drops jigging on my skull –
happy for their fall from cumulus rage
a moment
bringing question without possibility
while watching clouds slow-waltz
in comatose sky
a moment when I realize
I never really knew these clouds at all
a moment
when cool mist on desert skin
becomes just a momentary joy – a tease –
like winter’s day that begs to stay
through summer’s torment
a moment that comes
from the crater of me – a darkness –
wanting only moon as salve
I don’t know where god is
but these moments must be close
