after the macheteing

the things we scramble to
do before the first frost
due to roll in tonight:
drape the salad greens and
chinese cabbage in row cover,
measure, mark and dig out garlic beds,
harvest storage beets (some big as our heads),
gather the flowering snapdragons and strawflowers
_______

fistful of mugwort
clipped from herb garden with
a small silver-handled paring knife
(swiped from outdoor kitchen)
transported inside and
placed on pillow (for the dreaming)
_______

the hardness of
just disc-ed lookfar soil
under my bare feet
(sandals broken, galoshes too sweat-inducing)
while we dig paths and
rake cover crop in

_______

shoe the blue heeler
who likes to bite at the tractor wheels
regardless of whether or not
they are about to mash her against
hard droughted ground
which they are

_______

the special kind of stumbling we do out
in the field (over dried tangles of
foxtail or sticky-uppy stems
left after the macheteing)
as we carry bundles
of stripped slippery cane
to the slow moving wagon
leaving its diesel exhaust wake
_______
splayed like a starfish
face up on a gigantic bed
of stripped sorghum cane stacked atop wagon
how from here
sky (of that blue blue variety) is all i see
cross-hatched by contrails
while we tractor-roll
down the back road
what weight i can provide
holds the cane in place
_______

bright red of blood spreading over knuckles
while machete-ing
unstripped cane
(cut not by the metal blade but by
the razory edge of a green sorghum leaf)
_______

trish and i collapsing into each other
again and again with laughter
as we layer new knowledge over
new knowledge
while we repeat sounds, accents, nasals and pronunciations
(some of which we’ve never sounded before)
of what has been called the most difficult
language on the planet
(navajo)
_______

mica and i singing and re-singing
the short dinner song
made of the line about the red road
and harmony
_______

sound of cello strings
plucked up and down moving
through the wall between
tyler’s room and mine
in the corner of typewriter alley
_______

from the water world:

Screen shot 2015-10-16 at 8.37.35 PM
Indigenous people from the Kamayura tribe take a bath in Ipavu lake at the Xingu national park in Mato Grosso, Brazil, October 2, 2015. The Kamayura tribe consists of around 300 people, and is one of the 16 ethnic groups living in the indigenous Xingu national park. REUTERS/Paulo Whitaker

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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