Wednesday, June 28, 2017

long nights

have you ever noticed
4 o' clock in the morning
is the middle of the night?

all of the nights are long now
after the Solstice moon

Sonny Boy

4 o'clock in the morning -
Sonny Boy explaining
the sounds from the trains

The Wheel: redux

Were their lives prearranged, I wonder? But how might that be possible? I may or may not fear the truth. Actually, I don't feel much of anything at all. Not anymore.

Our fate, for that matter, may have been sealed eons ago, the turn of some monolithic, cosmic wheel the deciding factor. But, where's the point in dawdling in such metaphysical claptrap? Yet I still can't ... something in that moment I saw her the first time.

She was so young, in appearance, at least. Her face, set just so, affecting an innocence that mirrored the little boy's perfect features exactly. Once she was aware I was watching - I doubt anything missed her attention - the corners of her mouth curling, jawline raised ever so slightly to expose her flawless throat ... for a moment I imagined she meant to offer it, like ripe fruit for the taking. "This can't be," I thought, my cheeks flushed. "What the Hell am I thinking?" I hadn't looked away, however.

My eyes were captured by hers - crystalline, inescapable - no shame or remorse there. There it was again! I couldn't be sure. Some clever deceit? Imperceptible - I knew I'd aroused it - an intuition maybe, revealed in her best features; a consciousness, beyond her years, or even mine? An expectation perhaps - belying calm, and wisdom, yet an awful knowing.

Clumsily, I turned aside, made some excuse and walked away. Yes. Now I was certain.

summer crows
languidly inspecting
the old school ground


Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Take A Break: Half Kasen

Mercury Dimes

they weren't always
dollar stores, you know
Mercury dimes


Sunday, June 25, 2017

Dog's Breakfast

in a plastic cage
high up on a balcony
the neighbor's cock crows
watching me below
as I talk with the dog

. . . . . Everybody Rock Steady!!


Saturday, June 24, 2017


impromptu picnic
a spork, a straw, more condiments
in the glove box


4 o’clock in the morning

it’s 4 o’clock in the morning
between the real and the unreal
from one most tender, the other one floating.
as I leave this room, so neat and tidy,
to enable you access to the world.

upon awakening will you recall that kiss?
I tug on the thread ...

Friday, June 23, 2017

Orwell's Ghost

Orwell's ghost --
a book a clock and a photograph an ocean in between


Thursday, June 22, 2017

March '09 - brief discussion of death and haiku

spring rain
at sunset

Church Row


used to hang our by the canal behind my house and smoke weed tilll an alligator came up behind once when we realised we could die - ah youth ... ;) perhapsi spoke to soon ... new photos may be forthcoming.

Oh, you silly girl.

church row?

across the canal where you sat teh building markers. To the West on the map you provided.

After 9/11?

"News & Opinion"

evidence faceboo k's investor cIA's start-up incubator In-Q-Tel. Oh! f it, a link to an article, but n need to rush and read it.

(relie too much on spell check . Double Post

Which is a reason I reason I destroys continuity of thought, an ability to analyze situations or argue logically. its emotional roller coaster funnels people into a queue through eternal damnation, feedback loop's and promotional tools. there's no escaping; a real dog's breakfast.

con't // no more

between church row
and red lounge records -
a "Missing" poster on a pole

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Истребитель Су-27 отгоняет F-16 НАТО от самолета Шойгу: эксклюзивные кадры

Road Trip (revisited)

between rumble-strips
and wild flowers -
two lane blacktop

mist from the hills -
where floodplain meets sky,
ripples blur the grey

Cannon, Whitewater,
Zumbro, Trout -
the place where the river widens

prayers for rain -
the church league's corn boil
won't be held this year

Route 66 -
a flyspecked whitewash
on the wayside rest

Sunday's summer sunset -
another small town
closes all its doors


Monday, June 19, 2017


a battered steel door
left slightly ajar
o' so carefully
I slip my words in

between crows


summer squall
a quarrel between crows
releases more rain