but the coffee is running low and I’ve a sandbox to finish building.
June 12, 2011
what is that wetness??
abrupt wake up in where I considered shooting my wife’s cat. Little bastard pissed on my blanket to awaken me – which is odd as I don’t feed them – ever. That is K’s responsibility – I clean out the litter box and pet them – one sleeps on me sometimes and is my buddy (he had never pissed on my blanket which ended up on my foot), good cat he is.
I’ll have to dig it up and finish it sometime today but I once wrote a little thing about cleaning up after the cats, a miserable job but I have the olfactory senses that allow me to be instantly reminded to get it done asap.
Having a great sense of smell is not a blessing though, I also have olfactory hallucinations where at any time I will smell something so powerfully it makes me light headed – sometimes it’s all roses and candy or chicken – other times it’s all feces and rot. I’ve sussed no pattern to it.
I’ve only six followers here – why? I only blog when I feel like it and the public is fickle, they want entertainment every day or they forget you exist. that is okay, this is a place for me to write and sharing is a sideline because I somehow feel better about it once I’ve hit “publish post”.
June 9, 2011
I prefer sunflowers from my wife
a bouquet or even a single flower
I don’t notice the vase
a Van Gogh sitting on my kitchen table
with a note proclaiming love
I prefer sunflowers from my wife
to all other gifts.
June 8, 2011
coffee
I need to start drinking iced coffee or maybe iced tea. I’m the only one I know that really doesn’t care for iced tea and I absolutely cannot stand iced coffee. iced soy chai – now your talking but why go out and spend five bucks just to sit outside and fuck around on the laptop. It is never too hot to enjoy the home brew – it is never too cold to eat a bowl of ice cream, and all movies watch better with popcorn.
Today’s poem is a few years old and has been published twice – once in Roadkill zen Journal and again in my book, hands on the hips (available from Amazon or signed if you order through the buttons in the upper right hand corner), I have put it up because RKzJ has closed their site and it is no longer available there – this is the bad thing about internet publication, it creates no history. I think I should take screen shots where my poems appear on this world wide web just to have the history for my self – kept in a box at the bottom of a closet.
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togethercoloured
roadside diner,
a dollar for bitter coffee.
I want the hard rain.
I want the long rain,
HARD on my shoulders and face
with hands stuffed in pockets
clutching three dollars.
I want the drowning rain,
pooling underneath
walking feet. Running
shoes cleaned and soaking;
peregrination of two miles
in a Chicago summer,
toward a phone call, paper towels
and over-extracted coffee.
– Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 