That field is just a green rug.


I’m fairly dripping
with irony
and contextual implication.




Compound by the Highway I – 5

The Father’s House

+ Is the Father home?

– I’m the Father.

+ Do you have children?

– You’re All My Sons.

+ Who’s the Mother?

– We don’t talk about that. I’m not married.



+ I’m at that stage in my life where everything is too much for words.

– Then why don’t you stop talking?



There’s nothing beyond words,
Not even nothing.



camper van
turtle
house on back


this page is for turning


Truck says Montana.
They’re moving the whole state?


It’s fun to quote Shakespeare
not to show off
but because the words
need to be spoken


somebody
probably rural teenagers
are grateful
for the silos
to have a place
to post graffiti


sign too quick to see
about a National Park
it breaks my heart
to see
what we’re losing


blackened dirt by the road
the fire gave up
because there was nothing left
to burn


don’t buy Teslas
they look mean


the human race
doesn’t understand itself


we don’t have peace
because some people want war


Why make everything so complicated?


What laws do you want to violate today?
Which ones do you just want to get away with?


I don’t want to understand things
if that’s all we do.
I’ve lived too long
to be satisfied
by empty air


the landscape
always new
always the same
and houses
at least they look real
some incumbent with people
I don’t know about
until we get together


Doctor says
“You heal quickly”
I say
“Sometimes”


Stoppin’ at Manfredi’s
for milk and beer
then into town for pizza and
whatever


Story:

Accidental (?)

She cut herself
bled profusely
said “My bad”
I tried to stop the bleeding
applied pressure
ran next door
“Please help!”
the neighbor
looked at me meaningfully
staunched the flow.
Bandaged,
she said
“I’m tired now”
lay down
tried to laugh
“I won’t do that again”
I tried to believe her


by the road
blackened dirt ground
a lone fireman
in full array
a red truck with gallons
parked on the off-road
sprayed ostentatiously
on the smokeless ground

small gestures
never enough

I kept driving


I’m a athelete
Doctor said so
Said I have the foot

Said he could curate me
Ha Ha
How can you cure what you are?
Dunno.
‘cept it’s startin’ to itch.
Guess he’ll have to cut it off
ampytate
but maybe not
said he’d shoot me instead
whatever


“Whadda you want, Dad? Is
salad OK? Taco salad or
antipasto?”

“Antipasto. I had it before and liked it.
And it has meat. I like meat.”

“It has meat, Dad.”

“Then I’m a happy camper,
and we’re not even camping.”