no time for a new view
or a page to be left unseen
it’s all scattered to three winds
the fourth is all me
I will travel lightly
with only past troubles
tomorrow’s yet to be furrowed
today I drink fully down to the dregs
a pocket of Bazooka comics
humming smooth bass
from the Barney Miller show
brushing cobwebs
from neglected corners
of my own house
I still favor the Mary Janes
I used to wear
but not polished like childhood
chewing gum
reminding me of Tang
do astronauts look at cobwebs
remembering short days
and comet’s tails
streaks across a split sky
remind me of that first purse
reversible blue corduroy
8 track clicks so satisfying
groove in the car with shiny fins
make a wish on a dandelion
before rushing in dusty for dinner
pocket garden prizes at dusk
taste it
vellum sticks to the tongue
hold it until it dissolves
carry around the words as they become phrases and then stories
let the ridiculous seep in to your pores
coded with bits of pigment
scratch onto leaves
so brittle yet strong enough to capture
saturnine no more
walking slowly
into a season
no clear delineation
weeds are tough flowers
green saturates
I thought the lawn was bleeding
but it was an artists’ touch
a furiously paced whirlwind flourish
trembling
in tree’s shade
holding
melted wax crayons
I’m drunk with color
misshapen scultpure
she found him gloriously misshapen
in a way that few could detect
he found her tragi-comic
in a way that could not be ignored
is this where we throw in random snacks
and sundries
jotting down plans on greasy menus
they fit each other’s gaping holes
to great effect
leaving space like a sculpture
for moss and fungus to fester and grow
desperately grasping at a moving sidewalk
for balance
The Word Rummager 