It is a requirement of poetry
that you drink deeply of your life

Today I put my hand
on the giant sunflower’s face,
soon it will be too tall to reach
the size of a dinner bowl
and solid petals
They are called Golden Bears
for a reason,
The texture like weirdly thick,
hairy moss
No wonder passersby try to pull it
down to smell it, though I worry
it will damage the stalk
I made rice balls for lunch
But had to leave the rice to sit
while I went on some
two hours worth of errands,
Two different mailing centers
The Euclid Kroger lot a clog
of circling cars, crews to fix
the roof lot, delivery trucks…
Someone was honking at the line of ten cars
behind the one waiting for me to pull out
I tasted a few vinegars and oils at Stuartos first
I bought the Blood Orange but
nearly got the Persian Lime.
I also bought their thickest balsamic,
Dennissimo
Aged in casks of Juniper, Ash,
Oak, Juniper and Cherry
Swilling samples from little paper cups.
The rice was still sticky enough
when I returned with the tuna
I’d forgotten to begin with.
I wet my hands so I could
smash it into shape,
keeping the tuna inside.
Wet, sticky and moldable
fragrant with vinegar
   Still
There was a coolness
under the redbuds
and a sweet breeze
aflutter with spittlebugs
I noted the hummingbird
had finished gathering
all the dandelion fluff
for their nest
Grey skies and humidity
seemed to loom somewhere,
but the sun came out often

Pedophilic President Trump turned 80 and
In France People Are Dying Like Crazy From The Heat

the rain finally drizzled down
in the cool evening breeze
With so much to savor
my soul had itched to paint
My hands a strange conduit for my soul
My eyes hugging all that cannot
be touched or tasted
The kitten rolling on her back
in the unmowed grass
Taken as if by catnip frenzy
to sticking all four feet in the air
and licking her armpits