Month: January 2012

Chevy Blue

textbooks

and term papers

spilled coffee

and juice

Georgia commute

part-time

full-time

real-time

my golden dog

and drive-thrus

that turning ticket

that brake check on campus

that dent in the back

that song on crack

that tire going flat

wind thru the window

rain in my hair

that silent stare

no coin nor care

broke AC

locked out

locked in

automatic to manual

torn at the seam

twice towed

perpetually late

zillion mistakes

bags and buggies

plants and poems

donut donations

homeless help

first story

last

somewhere to be

nowhere to go

empty and full

backing out

moving forward

review mirror

yeah, I hear ya

volume down

quiet raised

lane change

belly to baby

her eyes in my mirror

his kiss on my lips

yard sales with Granny

potatoes and gravy

memory a mile

sighs and sorrow

be better

tomorrow

TL

Flow

took a walk

in the sand

and wrote

your name

by hand

and bit

by bit

the letters

sipped

into the sea

where all names go

to be

TL

Canvas

she painted

this picture

some lady named,

Faye …

not know

not spoke

not wrote

not broke

yet does one

have to

know or speak or write or break

to meet another

on the way

of which

there was

no claim

this brown basket

weaved in brush

carefully constructed

and artfully construed

to stand ever

on its own

with or without

weight

in this sublime state

a decided stroke

was made

to fill the empty space

with wild vines

white with bloom

that, over time, would

ripen red

TL

More or Less

mid the morning

rain

the flags hang

like wet feathers

and the streets

are high gloss

and the guy crossing it

is baptized

on his bald head

and the lights

are blinking red

and the woods

are wet

with spring

and the fruit

in the bin

is turning …

like a woman

like a man

peeling back

to core

before there was

a layer

or a shape

or a shade

or a scent

before there was

more or less

TL

Timeless

crack open

the round rind

and the rain spills out

sending the seed

South

where the sun

melts in your mouth

and the fields

are gutted

ready for rebirth

and the cattle is king

for a day

and the corn

for another

and the clouds are bleached

and the red clay

is baked

and rising

and the fish in the drink

are leaving a wake

and the stadiums are split

in four quarters

and a beauty queen

is crowned cream

and you can walk to church

if you want

and there’s the radio

dialed FM

and there’s the lift and fall

of shadow boxes

buried beneath

the bleach

TL

The Line

mortal eye

below

snagged

a morning

shadow

ever small and meek

soar contained

wing reposed

and body bowed

it stood alone

in perfect balance

long a lofty limb

where there

it held the line

not against

the wave of wind

but ever with

immersed

TL