Shasta & Tomatoes

Thanks to some lingering storm clouds brought on by Hurricane Dolly, I'm sitting on my stoop watching a sky that gives me a false sense of Autumn. Boy, am I ready!

My next door neighbor, Chuck, looks a bit like an old friend of mine. I trust him for that and a couple of other odd reasons only I could justify: tomatoes and Shasta.

Shasta is a blue heeler I watched Chuck spend a HOT Saturday building a fence for. She has four cute little fat, furry puppies. Chuck said she got out one night and came back knocked up. The puppies are big enough now to come out in her little yard and roll around with each other. I like watching her nurse her puppies from up here. I don't get close because of my allergies.

Which brings me around to another allergy I have. Tomato plants. Somehow, Chuck's small menagerie of plants on his stoop make me trust him.

Tomato plants and Shasta.

Whatever.

I'm listening to country music (!!!) and sitting quite unladylike on my front stoop waiting for my cajun shrimp cup-o-ramen to cool while I take a break from applying for jobs online.

Boy, I'm looking forward to Autumn!

Across the Way

Purple thirst

Grape smoke

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Gray beard

Brown skin

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Across the way

Another one

Pale moon glow

Who's she writin'?

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Breeze rustles leaves

and curls

and her gown

Her thighs are as white as her breasts

Across the way

Who's she writin'?

Watchin' that tree

like she waits for her lover,

but it's just she

and me

across the way

Summer night

upon night

upon night

Dark Like You

Looking for you now

Sun's dippin' low

Been hidin' all day

But night's comin' on

Leavin' both you'n me in the Dark

Dark Dark shadow

Dark Dark light

Moon or no moon

Night's still night

Looking for you now

Ain't no sun to squint

Been hidin' all day

Lil fires smokin'

All around this skyroom

Dark Dark shadow

Dark Dark light

Moon or no moon

I'll be up all night

I'm smilin'

I'm fakin'

Just a fiend like you

Moon or no moon

Just an addict like you

Blew See Blue

Blue Sea Ache

purple light
red light
blue
sea blue

purple light
red light
blue
sea blue

black tree
white tree
blew see blew

cold, cold sun gonna blow
til you ache

purple light
red light
blue
ache blue

hum it through your teeth
sing through all your disbelief

cold, cold earth gonna burn
til you ache

Big Fat SIGH

Dear Doc James:

Could not print out the letter I wrote to you last night, and that puts a weakness in me in the spot where I'm craving your strength.

this is the spot where i drew little doodles of the music i was listening to while i tried to cheer myself.

Bob Dylan
"...you gotta serve somebody..."

Pure Prairie League
"...won't you look at me and tell me, amie, what you wanna do..."

Spin Doctors
"...been a whole lot easier since tha bitch left town...i take that back i hope you're doin' fine...lil miss, lil miss, lil miss...can't be wrong..."

and then, some Kentucky Headhunters
"...too much purdy on 'er little white face..."
"...little rock and roll angel gotta style that's the talk of the town...causes traffic jams and stares in every crowd...just one look ain't enough..."

I wrote to you of things like lions and found and clipped ivies.

I wrote three pages and they all had nice pictures.

Now, without money for ink, I cannot print your letter and you shall not read my words.

BIG...FAT...SIGH

OnePeace, OneLove, Amie

here's another really sad part that didn't make it into the letter. i could not find stamps. (alas, forsooth, oh no!) fortunately, the temperature dropped below 100 after 8:00 p.m. so i walked to the grocery store for stamps. whew!

444

It's that time of time
where Amie goes
down Highway 61 with Bob Dylan
and every pie in the sky high of every lie in the willed
makes 'er itch.
Itch to roam.
Itch to run.
Itch to chase
Amie.
She's a wild one,
and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.
Nothin' at all.
She's a wild one,
and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.
Nothin' at all.
When you're born
with running legs,
your legs are running legs.
She's a wild one,
and ain't nothin' held 'er down yet.

Sanctified

I have given up & out & over.
every
thing
I could steal
away
just to taste the flavor of us,

but . . .

Something smoother gurgles
purer in this pain-free
vacuum of one-sided wander.
Wonder while I lust and
chase you.

Something
cleaner
surer
whiter
blacker

Not us

anymore,

but

Me.

. . .

and Me tastes oh, so good to bad ol' Me.