Monthly Archives: September 2017

I’m having a talk with me about planting a tree on the fringes of my property. And not just any tree. It’s a Live Oak, cousin to the stately oaks from my former northern home in New York State, but … Continue reading →

What if the scoffers are right and the believers faith is in nothing, for nothing? Well, then… So what? Believers will have spent their lives, day by days as all have spent theirs, but, maybe, with a little less worry, … Continue reading →

To what do I owe this post-coital felicity, lying entwined around and within my lady, a Carolina Blue sky shimmering through the fine lace curtains draping our bed room bay? Certainly no exemplary behavior of my own. No karmic stock … Continue reading →

Xenophon Pendelton Dunne was constitutionally opposed to laughter, joy or fun or any other such frivolous response to the darkness glooming his world. His alarm clock groaned midnight at every hour. If any man needed Pippa passing by his door, … Continue reading →

My love sleeps in the blue hue of our dimly lit living room on her pale blue recliner, her hands folded on her lap. She is warmed by her woven, white, wool blanket, pulled to her chin. She is still, … Continue reading →

“Know what I really wish?” bubbled the lovely cuddle fish to her new amour. “I wish that you could cuddle me more, or is that too much to ask?” She giggled through her gills at the silliness of her gambit. … Continue reading →

Atilla the Hum, Edenic in his serenity, perches in the scrub brush, hawking the four feeders spaced on the corners of the aviary feeding zone I’ve filled with seed and suet feeders, apple slices scattered in the grass and four … Continue reading →

I’m an old man farting poetry, most times leaving merely an unsightly brown-green bull-shit stain inside my whitey-tighties. But- Once in a great while, I get it right, the poem punching with the force of a well focused fist on … Continue reading →

You have a Spirit part who knows everything about you and ABOUT EVERYTHING. It knows the name and number of the best swimmer in your Daddy’s sperm-cell loaded ejaculate who planted his flag on your Mommas’s egg. It knows your … Continue reading →