Archive for August, 2020

Los Endos

I had gotten poison ivy all over my legs
when I was out staking the tomatoes
upright again after the storm
so I went and washed my feet off
while standing in the tub
using this newfangled
anti-itch rub, when
I slipped and hit
my head brutally,
forcefully on
the porcelain

…and I remember thinking
right before dying…

Man, 2020’s been a motherfucker!

Chagall 2020

He halted abruptly
You still with me?

I shook my head
and stared at my star
already light-years ahead

Chagall 2020

Did I Miss One?

I remember when Summer was fun,
we’d kiss and smell like lotion

listen to top-10 countdown on AM radio

And days were like weeks
were like months
were like years
in Summer

in-between last Spring
and this Fall

a sun-soaked streaming parade,
the sweetest time life affords

I think we are given
three endless summers

then one very brief Autumn

the sun below the horizon refracts
and scatters its light like tendrils

such is
the twilight

the first I’ve neglected thus far to mention
occurs beside waters atop sands no longer found,
wrapped in bright towels, mothers dab salt waters away gently,
under warm sun, young painters daub makeshift canvas,
rue the day their colors dry, love’s sweet aroma
rings my mind like chimes, bright bells tingle every nerve,
each aspect of the memory preserved, recited anew

…as we count down to the #1 song of the Summer…!

Chagall 2020

Day Exits Too Soon

Evening, the dog circles maniacally, fixed on the scent of our garden rabbits,
fireflies light up around us, bedazzle in slow sensuous glow – so close,
the grass and clover are longer here in the back, more lush underfoot,
I do not know what is beyond the surround of trees about us

My mind is the rich green of forests, more evergreen than lime,
heathered with blue

The storm is coming, ocean air from far away,
treks hundreds of miles in hours, to adorn our impending night
with mysterious aromas, spicy and minty, perhaps freedom’s spirit

The dog gently pulls me uphill in a slow jog,
my ascent is eased by her effort, she anticipates the darkness,
already hears the distant thunder

At the crest of the rise, with night now certain,
we are surrounded – in a deep field of twinkle –
in awe amid the throbbing bioluminescent,
the rabbits far behind us

Chagall 2020

Oddly Shaped Pearl

Do you think any folk
from the Baroque
era liked

Kind of Blue
have been birthed
in 1659?


they didn’t even
have vinyl yet

Chagall 2020

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