endearing rural grafitti

i could drink a case of you
and i would
still be on my

we sing into
the morning before us


clipboard in hand
ashby the runty cat
trotting at our sides
in hank-the-cantankerous-dog’s absence
garden crew flanking
fine lines
of dill leaves hold

orbs of water
turning light into rainbow
leaning over mulchedness
we lower little tomato trees
into mini pits dug
into the super sog of
wet clay soil
tookie and i singing
take me to church
i was born sick
but i love it
command me to be well
as short-alled liana appears behind
baby pines and comes prancing

green samuri she calls me on the
train trestle
two miles in
two miles to go
endearing rural grafitti
unspooling around us
you know what i just realized
she says as we traverse
once muddy post-rain terrain
silos look just like a
gigantic thermos

flat fat doughey strips of
not-yet-but-almost pasta
laid on kitchen table
as trish cranks
the shiny machine
howling at airballs and swishes
backboard bounces and rim shots
mica, emory, liana and i
scrambling after basketball
until someone spells out
new mexico (instead of horse) first

swampy in here she observes
in the kindness of beeswax-fueled flame

from the water world:

Hindu devotees gather on the banks of the River Ganges to take holy dips on the auspicious occasion of Somvati Amavasya in Haridwar, India. – voice of america, day in photos

from the fuck you i won’t do what you tell me world:

A three-story ‘nail house’, the last building in the area, with a Chinese national flag on its rooftop is seen in the middle of a newly-built road in Luoyang, Henan province, China. According to local media, the house owner did not agree with government’s compensation plan for relocation and refused to move out. – voice of america, day in photos

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kinda star, maybe planet

yoga mats rolled out
on top of cistern
liana and i take turns
leading vinyasas
that include
(but are not limited to)
bird of paradise
side crow
wild thing

the ruckus of a pack
of pissed off protective robins
defending their young from
a orange-gold juniper-climbing
hunting cat by the name
of gibbous

sendoff/cheer to
cynthia and marie as they pedal off
on their 40-mile return journey
towing a trailer of baby veggie plants
in their wake

ty, tookie and i
windows down on our way
laughing our asses off
to the great oreo ball gala
of 2015 also known as
nay nay’s graduation

on the ride back
tookie vocalizes the
instrumental parts
in the yeah song
take that and rewind it back

how oaks like to hybridize
she says as we three walk
under black locust blossoms
how there are more varieties than names/knowledge
and how it’s unusual for plants/trees
to hybridize themselves
because that’s the thing
humans do to trees/plants


looks like someone just
went like this i say
holding an invisible pen in my hand
and making a little squiggle-drawing gesture
in regards to the scribble of a cloud
turning pink over horizon

kinda star, maybe planet i say cocooned
about the brightest
glow in the sky
that comes in and out of view again
with each sway of the hammock that
holds us

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in the dream
a gymnasium spot-filled
with yoginis
rolling out my mat i arrange for
more space

in the space that was
once bed i
peaceful warrior and
morning light thrown down
onto mat and
arms and

in the future spiral bed
hula-hoeing we
attempt to explain/practice harmonizing
beginning with i’m a little teapot
and ending on when i fly
let me fly
like a bird
with no regrets


alyson and i discussing the finer
elements of fuck youness, we’re fabulousness
body-reclaiming theory while
we dry off and re-dress
post-frisbee at pond edge

unnamed phenomenon:
the politeness and restraint with which
a gathering of people exercise
to leave the last:
cookie, muffin, slice of cake/pie etc. uneaten

motown philly
clocking in at three minutes and 55 seconds

matching the duration of today’s ab challenge plank hold
i press play and start
the timer and we hover/hold
(and dolphin, and hold…)


dangling gold mardi gras beads
for holden held in neighboring lap
small hands grabbing on

brightly colored
jolly rancher jellybeans
in silver bowl on
front porch bench-table


our fieldest of fields
i refer to look-fartherwhere we spent late morning
bare footed and hilling
potatoes with too-short hoes

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into hunt-mode

clothespinning fitted sheet
and in the glancing up to
attach fabric to line
half-wafer of moon
reveals its see-through-ish self
against blue view

i wait for wind
to die a bit
for each handful of
zinnia seeds broadcasted
in look-far garden
mica and i manuevering
floppy futon onto its
side so it can lean
up against things leaning
up against f.i.c. office
(slowly shrinking with each
new added thing) wall

rose-like smell of
pink peonies
emanating from
small glass jar
on dresser

the difference between
gardening and production farming:
being allowed the time/space
for the tenderness with which
i lower the small-tree-like
tomato starts
into greenhouse soil

5-something p.m. light
turning green things
(grass, hoophouse plants,
leaves of dried spearmint)
cloud above sun
glowing like
a crumpled piece of foil
not aluminum
but gold bronze copper

bunnies on back road
somehow not scrambling
as i approach
same color (from a distance)
as ashby the cat whose

body tenses into hunt-mode
in my arms

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glimmer back-and-forthing

gonna catch me plantin’ verty
they see me diggin
i’m plantin
droppin compost
for the tomatillos
my plant is so tall
it’s swayin
got my trowel and starts
that’s all i’m sayin

tuft of black locust flowers
wind-tossed to garden ground
how i hold the white branch blooms
to my face and inhale
dropping small
calendula and marigold and strawflower starts
into trowel-dug holes
while wind ruffles their
young leaves

squeak two tree limbs make
(sounding almost bird or cat-like)
against each other
when convinced to sway
by the wind moving through

mica and tookie in the horse-radish
while i trowel small holes
around the cistern and drop
sunflower starts in
marked by pink flags staked
into ground

hummingbird glimmer
back-and-forthing in greenhouse
where i lift the tiniest
sweet williams
and painted tongue and portula
into their upgraded dwellings

roxette/ace of base/bette midler
sing along in order to
distract/relieve trish’s
stick-and-poke arrow pain

ty, dave, mica, tookie, ash and i
laughing over
line-picture-line pages
that got lots of mileage
off of an electrical cord
a song lyric and
sandhill soft serve

from the water world:
A police officer keeps an eye on demonstrators as a water canon clears barricades in the Nyakabyga district of Bujumbura, Burundi. Days of deadly clashes have rocked Burundi since the ruling party nominated President Pierre Nkurunziza to stand for reelection on April 25 for a potential third term in office. –
voice of america, day in photos


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particular sound of
plastic clattering on wood
(spilling crayola markers
out onto table top)
emory and i commence creating

sandhill newspaper #5
which includes a fishing feature
and maypole illustration

these kids are like aspen trees-
all their roots are connected,
a chain reaction of grief
shiz says about
the twins’ pet dog death
the night before and their
coming to school the next day
little bodies, big feelings


the plant
green-leafing itself
vining into
karma kitchen
trapped between
screen and window

electrical cords and belts
she says and i ask if she felt
unsafe in the house she grew up in
sometimes, she says, and when we were
old enough, we spent as much time away
as possible
that’s not what i carry with me though,
what i carry is that our mom
would lie to my sister and i
over and over again
just to pit us against each other
this is one of the places
my mother comes from
like a journalist
i dig past the
it’s difficult to translates
not to exploit
but to uncover spirals of
from the water world:
Residents along Manila Bay play in the waves created by nearby Typhoon Noul as it approaches the northern Philippines.  – voice of america, day in photos

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always an homage

pastel pallet glowing
out of darien-made vase
lilies (a pale yellow kind and a
cool purple gray kind)
peonies (first bloom)
and one strand of bleeding hearts
table-center set

pressing the biscuit cutter
through 1/4 inch to 1/2 inch thick dough
rolled out on marble slab and
placing the doughy pucks
on an oiled tray
this action always an homage
not always knowing to what
(the character in bastard out of carolina?
grandpa siedlewski?
my prep cook life?)


the lone and gigantic
morel mushroom
that joe discovered while mowing
growing right under our noses
just off the side entrance to
the front porch

the shine in june’s eyes
as we hug hello
and the not knowing

how mica cuts
the engine for a moment
of forest/quiet
on the hayless hay ride
test drive

ashly halving each cookie
on potluck table so there
will be enough for all

this is your land day chad says
along with something about not
giving it up/losing a good thing
if he could

do it all over again

white flower wreaths
woven from yard-side shrubbery
whose name i forget
and perched on many-a-head
in the festively-dressed
land-day crowd

ashly, ty and i
picnic table perched
and joking about
purchasing our peanut gallery passes
to the show me state games
and how the excitement for peanut gallerying
eclipses the excitement for tossing the disc

41st land day stan says
in the giant pre-potluck circle
and 28th mayday

tiny pouch pinned to
mae’s lapel for
carrying the tiny mouse
when she’s not carrying it
in her palm (with a potluck buffet)
or in a plastic portable cage/house
she was a stray he says
about the dog named river
starved skinny when we found her
so she’s always been pretty
protective/weird about food
flush of gold-orange sparks
rising skywards
as baigz tosses/rearranges
logs/limbs on the
brick-ringed fire of
bon(fire) proportions

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