dirt cake

the flash of lightning so bright
that even in the morning light
it shocks light through my closed eyelids
and then, the booming/cracking open
(of what sounds like the very ground around us)
in several parts
_______
they put one of your snapdragons
over dennis’s heart emory tells me
about returning to visit dennis an hour or so
after he passed on
which makes me think about
the times when both poems and flowers
(two things i make) are
needed/necessary/leaned on/useful,
of which death is one
there is something bigger in this
that i cannot yet name
but feel reverberating
through me
_______
trees grow slow
and trees grow strong
and trees sway with the wind
their whole lives long…
emory and i sing in the canoe
me in front in the paddle and he in back
with his fishing pole
(with bait on it without a hook)
_______

how i take my shirt off
at the helm and emory
strips out of his blue paisley sundress
we haven’t jumped in the water yet
but you can bet we will
_______
it works better if you say it like a clock i say
about emory behind me pointing to bullfrogs
and turtles so he says
bullfrog at three o clock and indeed
it is at three o clock and indeed
it is much easier to find
_______
introducing sandhill
to an improv bio of rachel tucson
i begin with the enneagram and end with the fact
that we are the same height which makes
trish smile big
_______

 i think we need these i say
carrying the tall blue glass (candy glass) jar
filled with a sharpie and four letter words
for temporary knuckle tattoos
mo and i both committing to
choosing only two and going with it
mine: dirt cake
hers: fire feed
_______

how i laugh at the cloud to the east
in the oncoming sunset sky
that looks so much like a snail
(round shell home with body sliding along underneath)
when i realize the round shell home
is the almost-full moon
(something about the texture of it
and the color of the cloud)
makes moon and cloud appear
as if they are made of same stuff
_______
group of what must be at least 15 mennonite boys/teens
lining both sides of the highway
where a bridge overlooks the tracks
how i nod and wave feeling like a real
weekend warrior in my spandies
and how, i’m moving too fast
to see if nods/waves are returned
but i do hear a dog barking which
makes me wonder if it is an actual dog
or a boy in his button up shirt barking at me
and the latter is confirmed
on my return when i pass them again
this time they are walking back to where they adventured in from
without a dog and yet
the barks as the sky powders above me
i mutter a fuck off under my breath and later
have fantasies about turning to pedal into them and then
squealing to a halt within inches from their
blue-jeaned knees and standing
tall/proud/unfuckwithable and saying something like
are you fucking kidding me!?
BARKING!? i aint gonna take that
(and then pulling some serious badass ninja moves here)
not now and not ever
and then zoom off, throwing dust as i recede

into a speck up some hill along the horizon line
_______
the screech in the sky that draws my eyes skywards

and in the very same spot, on the return ride,
the (red tailed hawk?) cruising along on the air
above me before landing on top of the electric line post

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s