Garden & Gathering

Nature is Party to All

Category: Poetry


Sometimes it is just nice to have someone around

When all the snow turns to ash
And they are banging at your door
Calling for heads or sex or guilt or money
Just when them bangers are calling for hearts
It would be nice to have someone around
Someone to talk to
Someone to participate in the expansion
Of an all too quiet universe

Cubist Poetry 2

The sun without duress
of winter cover.
The jagged rocks.
The red sand.
The thin creek.
The bush clinging.
The arrows trajectory.
The imagined smoke.
The power of words.
The cliff.
The soil succumbed.
The weight of wet cotton clothing.
The imbedded dagger.
The sink and throat.
The goose skin.
The salmon thought.
The unseen blade.
The weakened nerves.
The sacred sound.
Mild mild.


Pears in the park
Ripe with blue-black
Bruises, guiding the golden
Hand of sun clock stretch
Across aluminum can littered
Lawns of Cheesman
Pictures of Plato
Painted by companions
Begging a word from an acorn
Dried apricots and fermented hops
Drowning in leaves of grass meditating
On meditation


When there is lightning
Your eyes lighten and laughter
Rolls between your teeth

I won’t go to work

Made a good cup of coffee
Should not that be enough to sometimes
Say I won’t go to work today

Happiness might better be birthed
Basking in the low light of a basement
Bedroom where traffic bleats

Dimly on wet cement outside
Looking for a dry place to park
Holding your head in your hands

Before making an honest dollar
Even if the bus
Costs two and a quarter

After all you cannot take it with you
Which should be enough to say
I won’t go to work today

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