Sunday, September 19, 2010

Friday Afternoon

I love the way the sunshine feels in the late afternoon under the pine tree. The lawn is looking more and more like a meadow as the days go by. I know I should mow, but I like the wildness and abundance the nitrogen rich chicken poop brings.

Salad Days

3 in the a.m.
Post rock show
My hair smells like cigarettes and stale bar air

Tonight, I remember why
These Are the Salad Days

Now I know why getting grown is
so sad
Yet so nice

Where we've come from
Where we're going
Not nearly as important
As
Where
We
Are

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Da boids


Short Sale

I was on a three way call with the bank and my realtor.
They talked numbers
and mumbo jumbo
and I said yes when prompted
I soaked in the living room
the walls
the bookshelf and fireplace
the rug
and the cuckoo clock.
Through the open front door
birds were chattering
chickens were fussing
wind chimes were tinkling.
I settled comfortably back into the couch with a sigh.
The phone felt like a tin can on a string.