out of towning

on my desk, in my trailor, sits a wildflower honey jar

filled with gladiola and mexican sunflowers you picked 

  for my fifty fifth birthday. double nickled, can't drive,

aarpish. but you love me. wrapped around your finger.

you restarted my game, back to level one. thanks for helping

me kick that addiction. you should get a chance to play

at your level. let me know when you reach where i was.

so what game to engage in now? writing on a different level

might be nice if i had the energy. it was sweet to visit with you

pretend we still have things in common instead of this gulf

between returning and pixie pin point  connections.

still, i love the fall leaves. and i did introduce you

to your current lifestyle. that counts for something

i can take into the clikity clak night to cuddle. 

i bet you didn't think i'd return your call

but you weren't  IDed. i fixed that though.

 now when you relive us through

 a different situation, you

 won't have me to drone to.

i know you had to leave for work, it doesn't

 get easier if you pretend

we're already dead. i left 

some black and white square bowls

on the counter, like the four noble truths.

then, to take the edge off, coffee cups.

bone white.  the delusions of youth

dissolve in the era of solid middle age.

so grab a drum. you have four years

to watch the event horizon become  

the rabbit hole.might as well make some time.

(*)**\\\

they don't know what those ^^ are. 

it throws them. to have to explain would be my pleasure

but this is not a discussion group. 

or maybe  i've just not looked around 

enough to find the happening place.

surely all the great grammatical questions

have not been answered, surely there are boundaries 

we can still cross. just not in this place. i can see

very well that this is not the venue for bloggishness

disguised as poetry with left handed resolution

and karmic intent. 

what of the beauty of today?

the cup of coffee. the slow rolled meds.

washed clothes, cleaned bowls.

and the daily grind. back at the salt mines

picking up the whip, wielding it. 

(i will get my tester. everyone in the house knows

we need it now. i hope it works and we can find ways

to wrestle the sonic monster to its knees, make it obey

our whim. this vp and that vp don't want to play

this game of who's minding the store. i will get my tester

and they will hate me more. the she that's in 

the mean girls club is a wolf,. play it more or less 

the same sister mine. i am too busy fa ya ass.

less keep this pafessional.)

oh i am getting hard. hard and hard.

the walnut bitters , shell catalysis. i 

let you sleep with your clothes on

stubble faced stumble placed.

it was another disappointing to my expectations day.

but the part of me that just let it be

knew what would happen all along so

she is just SAYin , like, duh. 

just love you. you drove my car one thousand 

five hundred miles and only whined

when you made the wrong left turn.

we barely snapped. tether and ring.

i was five on the beach, watching the tide 

roll in. you humored me anyway.

because i know timing is everything

and i fucked you the first night we

were   on the beach,

lit by stars. 

the last night, i slept in the new year

because i didn't want to see it

from the very first minute on.