Archive for April, 2017

He Bought the Farm

April 25, 2017

He Bought the Farm

The red mule bucks

and snorts in his stall.

What is, is.

The thatchy thick straw and manure

mix heavy in my shovel,

stick to my boots like Iowa will.

The windmill creaks, moans

to acres of treeless nothing…

hours drift into days,

months, years.

No more Mr. Lounsberry.

He died on the road

astride a John Deere.

They auctioned off

his tools, he became

part of this barren earth

already dead…

no more canning tomatoes,

or carving watermelon

shooing flies in the heat

while the kids played

by the spoiled creek

no more in awe of the galloping

jackalope’s ears

floating low like wings

over waves of stunted cornstalks,

impotent furrows.



my mind is jealous

April 20, 2017

it’s been blown to smithereens

your mind is finely tuned

like mine would be in my dreams

Kill the sky!

avenge yourself  this acid reign

of thunderclaps and lies


New Leaves

April 19, 2017

Turning over new leaves is the hardest thing

stuck to the muddy earth each one hides old hurts

I thought one leaver left me for a cross dressing accountant

but no, she wasn’t really “mine”, besides

he died right away and she got all his money

you’ll have that.

The first leaver left me for a “fatter, dumber version” of myself,

the kids told me she exclaimed

after catching her new hubby calling sex lines on his Mom’s credit card

I mean you can’t make this up

Sometimes, I like leaves.