Plein-air on Mt Tabor

Late summer in the Northwest finished hot and dry, smoke and ash drifting from the wildfires drizzling down onto our outdoor evening tête-à-têtes in the city. The Gorge fire was the closest to us. Ash blew with the east winds and if windows were left open you awoke with ash on the sills and furniture…

The Flags of Our Dispositions

Some talk again about the end of this world but yr rapture might not be his rapture & maybe he’ll be happy as hops to see you go. Kneel, stand, or dodge the show weekend TV questions for the status quo diversion plays reductio ad absurdum the flags of our dispositions. More disposed to please…

Starting with No

Starting out at nine in search of yes watches synched to 21:00 another night problem to hug and home by one. Starting out at no thing was ever what it seemed to be the toilet by the back gate not plant pot nor art. Starting out ending up in the same place it might have been…

Summer Notes: 2 – Fireworks

“Raise high” red & orange sun umbrellas blow out the blue balloon ballroom ceiling for the doff dance “Pick up order here! …olives, pepperochini! pale ale from Hop House!” Ten knuckle blues cats breaking the rules notes bent brittle thin cast iron fat slides & tempting trombones Pop go the contradictions contraindications spinning bombos bouncing…

Summer Notes: 1 – Baseball

Run now down the dreary drowning droning cheers of summer under yellow umbrellas American baseball under rain A last blue light in the little lilac and raspberries wandering and falling spray of pop flies Sun slips between clouds squeeze play cat sitting on cedar deck gives backward glance White stone paper cup empty beer jangle…

Dawdle Doodle Diary: Spring Fashions and Other Caution Signs

Spring slowly sprung the environs plush with dawdle walks and doodle weeds, tweets and posts poking up in the usual spaces, out of concrete poetry cracks, but in the midst of this year’s annual rush for life we were learning to breathe. Spring is just such the perfect answer to winter, one wonders shouldn’t one’s…

Belly List

Sucking on garlic buttery snails, after shooting a Bandersnatch on Crete, drinking a cup of French Alps chestnut-colored wine. We had just jumped from a small airplane, freefalling in a creeping phlox sky losing petals over the hot green valley evening, landing somewhere in France or Italy – we weren’t sure our exact location. We…

Lust for Like

Just as we might ask a critic not to call not good a work for not being what it is not intended to be, we might remember expecting a like from any particular audience predisposed to dislike the chosen form doomed to deletion. We often think others think like we do, but they probably don’t….