So it's that time of year again... and hopefully that means I will be a little less selfish with my writing and with my baking... This week its cookies, biscuits, blueberry scones and Arroz Con Gandules! As it is here are a few of the poem's I've been working on... As always they are rough drafts and no where near finished. The first I just finished a few moments ago after my morning bike ride and espresso down at Cafe Guiseppe down on Silver near Nob Hill. Wonderful people, amazing espresso (best I've found in town) and a damn fine environment for sitting a sticking ones nose in a crossword if I do say so myself.
Anyway... enough babbling and rambling... here are a few poems... I hope you like them. I always want your feed back... you all make me a better person.
October
Albuquerque, the smell of warm play-doo and kitchen stove roasting green chilies
There is an almost full moon rising in a cloudlness night
Sitting low above the mountains
Heavy with unseasonal warmth
Pieces of a rotator belt at the intersection,
a cucumber underneath bike tires,
October yellowed leaves in the gutter next to a freshly watered brown lawn
Muddied and confused
It’s October and in the seventies by mid afternoon
In Japan its raining and getting late
to be climbing Mount Fuji
Oh ladybug
soon… soon... but please, go slow
People's name's become insects to protect the innocent.
Leaning against the stuccoed wall
Watching moonlight adorned September post rain clouds
Perfectly silhouetted framed like silver around a vintage broach
Thin, elegant and oxidizing in the rain and heat
He is waiting for the kettle to whistle
Whistle in a town where no trains moan at two in the morning
A new mexico moonscape drapery over sweet cherry peppers
And end of the season wilted tomato plants
There are mustard plants weeding out the backyard
And a ladybug is cleaning her child’s pee from the dining room table
An ocean and an email away
Muskrat’s socks have holes in the toes and heels
And there is chamomile tea steeping in an engraved mug…
Leslie
With muddy water running off a light brown news boy cap
A fast moving New Mexico scattered shower
Punched its way east past the valley into the foothills
Over the Sandia Crest as dirty gutter water runs out the holes in his shoes
There is baseball on the television, rice on the stove top
Greek oregano and chives surrounding sweet cherry red peppers
Along metal trellises in the backyard.
It’s a Carl Sandburg and William Carlos Williams night
Somewhere west of here, she is reading through a pile of books
A high school memory and reconnected pen-pal
Watching Mad Men and requesting long distance poems…
