Emptying into the larger river The brook

Summer arrives It doesn't exist A place for floating dandelion to collapse Try to take hold

Mostly scrabble Stone and gravel Harsh Gritty

Baked by rays Hot Shimmering Parched

Until the snows come again


Every day The clothes pile up With a family of five

The shirts And the shorts (Thank goodness it's nearly summer) And the socks

And the underwear God, the underwear

I wonder what this pile would weigh If I could get it onto a scale If ever it could be contained In that manner

Does it even make sense To find the mass of cloth To tally it like a body or an ingredient

Some have simplified Identical colors Identical garments Identical days Identical nights

But still they have to wash dry fold repeat

But still they have to


The clouds had went Their separate ways

Sucked out of the sky By the departing wind

What was left was pure And glittering And calm

Like the eye of a storm

A respite From the constant chill The continuous strong motion

With good fortune it could last longer Not just a passing relaxation

Is wishing a strategy? Does hoping yield results?


Would you rather? Sights and sounds

I miss the painted colors But I still have the shimmering movements The ether swirling around my head

All the dimensions in play The other flat in comparison I would sit I would hear I would be okay Not great But okay

If light is a wave Does it not make a vibration? Can it not be visualized aurally?


All the things are happening It's coming down all around

It gets everywhere Like sand on a beach Or Star Wars on my streaming

The sunny days are freezing The cloudy days are warm And occasionally dripping

It's been weeks since there was a good day Though yesterday wasn't bad As far as days go

Perhaps it's time to step forward But with everything holding me back I'm not sure how

I'm not sure how


They get older They need care They want independence They want home

And so you hint What you need It's not there It's a choice It's a Life or Death

One is ready To start that next stage The other wants to buy The farm on the farm

So together they stay Until together they aren't The line is direct Between here and there

Without movement Without change The hardest thing For one to do

So we wait So we know we wait For Death To make the choice To make the change To make the move


I woke up at the farm And cracked open the Mad Farmer

It felt like the right thing And the total wrong thing

Just like it felt wrong To read a foreward When I meant to read poetry

So here I sit with attitude Having read three poems In the dark

And now I can tell people I read the Mad Farmer at the farm Like I'm some sort of learned man of the earth


Just wait, just watch A future will form and exist Small though it is the Town passes by in your rearview like the Girl you used to be

Livin' comes easy In the out there beyond A thing you won't expect Lonely then full of life this World you've yet to build


Everyone else was rolling to their Workaday occupations

While this group of folk Like so many crows Working together to Antagonize their neighbors

They pushed buttons Picked up little projects Of no import But their own amusement

Sometimes they didn't talk To each other for days Then suddenly With little planning They were pushing towards An invented goal

Realizing Aren't they all made up?

While the rest of us Were tapping our watches And punching our clocks Like they were our faces in the mirror


Imagine going along in life Saying all those things Just talking and talking That's how you got attention

Affirmation Admiration

Suddenly those things you're saying Close the doors To friendships and jobs

Sealed in your little tin can Smelling only your own breath And whatever used to be stored in here

It's like a bubble Forced upon you Around you The only thing you can think to do

More words More shouting More attention

Tighter seals Your tiny, tinny voice Hardly getting heard Such that it needs paraphrased

Until it no longer echoes around Anywhere in reality But only in your head


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