Cape Henrico Diary

On sultry days, the slightest breeze brings relief.
It's in stagnancy that situations become intolerable.

Silence is hearing place, hearing piece
where clearest surfaces the longings
for peace and surf and home.

Boy at The Pane

Sherman is a kid going on 90,
thrilled with sights and sounds since he was a little.
Ever since Sherman was knee high to a grass hopper,
someone up there has been painting him pretty pictures.
Ever since Sherman was knee high to grown ups,
the dead pan, bad-breath folks have been slamming him hard.

Who is this shithead to claim such privilege,
that every artist he revels in,
does their arty thing
primarily for little Boy Blue's attention

If Sherman is a fool, let it be so.
Better to be lied to than face unbearable truths.

Clay 's Reality

The cicadas return,
but the hum from the freeway overpowers them
The serious downside to living next to a highway.

The missus and I discuss
to fell or not the majestic oak by the garage
It could tumble, maim or kill. Hurricane season approaches.

What folly (seems to me) to establish the worst case scenario
as the most probable. Should not the oak have a right to live?
It was planted here before Gwendolyn and I got knotted!

The uterus is the visionary.
I'm just the dip stick she married
Serves her right for having been such an optimist.

You marry a guy much older than you ---
expect damaged goods.
You marry a virgin, expect inexperience.

Elizabeth River Crossing

My jaunts from Georgia are to a village 10 miles from the Virginia shore
where late at night, a few brave souls skateboard and ride their bikes

There's nothing quite cathedral as darkened, empty streets.
I thrive in a town where my nostrils breathe in salt.

Oh, Weatherspoon

Solitude, how I adore you
who provides me climate and altar
to soothe and stoke with words of rapture,
she who I most desire,
me, of course

The Eroticism of William Overture

I've heard it said, a computer's memory can't be erased
A google search is recorded forever

If this is so for electronics,
what of spongy, brainy matter?

I dare not write all that I think
once imagined may persist
and find itself out there stalking

Nymph

Like a long, straight highway through flat lands
This be April not July
before the corn grows high
before the wheat sweeps forward of the drive
Tornado alley...this be Kansas.

Like a long, straight drive under blue pearl distance;
gold the open window wind's resistance ---
over the highway's meridian, a puff like her
she of pastel slant, she of ivory neck
she of hair the color of autumn haste
she of powdered breasts

Do I know this actress from somewhere?
The pampas, perhaps,
perhaps the Australia ?