I peeled some eggs today.
No metaphors or tricky language today, no.
I boiled them, drained them,
and let them cool.
I cracked the first one on the ***
and then held it over the trashcan.
As soon as I dug my thumb into it,
I knew they were perfect.
I had put enough salt in the water
to make them easy to peel,
just how Momma taught me.
I used the edge of the shell
against my thumb and applied force
perpendicular while using my other
thumb to hold the shell and egg opposite my target
in place.
I dug my thumb into that thin film
just far enough not to grab the egg,
but far enough to get the shell.
I had it off in a couple of motions,
only one minor flaw that was my
own carelessness.
I lost myself for a while.
Rosco came sniffing around,
my dog looking for a snack as always.
My phone lit up beside me -
it was her.
We're taking it as slow as southern molasses.
It's nice.
I cracked one egg and pulled the shell off
perfectly in half.
I was awestruck.
I mangled one badly
so I decided to eat it.
Yum! Still warm.
I made too many anyway.
Yeah, that's all.
I peeled some eggs today.

You with your post-primitive hair
and your eyelids
stop teasing
we're all in on the secret
though mum

ten times i've told you
in operatic tones
ten times i've curtseyed
before you a rose in my teeth

my heart is all stomach ache
with regret
opportunities for truth squandered
polite smiles and pleasantries

today let's speak free

when you grow up
in a world where old is not useless
but means connected
to other times that made yours possible

then the weathered beams
     of an old mountain farmer’s house
          lived in for generations
give you a feeling of security and continuity

the solid doors of venerable city buildings
     signal achievement, comfort, safety
     knowledge and culture
     brought to you across the centuries

the crumbling arches of old castles
      remind you of your country’s history
      some of it glorious  some not
      for better or worse

even your faded family photographs
      can make you wonder
      suggesting all the generations
      that passed so you can have
      that special feeling

John Lee Townes nodded sadly, knowingly
From his perch at the Come On Inn
Heard the ambulance boys
Needed two trips to get her out
(But John Lee an untrustworthy witness if there ever was one,
Prone to drunken blackout and sober embellishment
One step from rehab and two steps from the loony bin)
Though the facts at hand
Were short on gore, long on the mundane;
Peggy Rabish (her possessions few, her jewelry cheap)
Was found bruised, but not ******,
Lying in a profane yet oddly peaceful position
Of mock prayer or sleep.
As passers-by gawked,
Whispering inventions, plausible and otherwise,
Concerning jilted boyfriends and rich aunts,
Rummaging through their own memories
In search of credible alibis,
The state boys, diligent and professionally bored,
Secured the crime scene in their yellow-tape fashion.
Suspects?  One trooper barked, ****, just look around here.
****-heads, drunks, welfare cheats,
You tell me who the hell isn’t?
The park manager nodded rhythmically, disinterestedly,
Half-listening as he turned his collar up against the chill,
His thoughts focused in filling this soon-to-be empty lot,
Vacancies and felonies being equally bad for business.

i.

in the wild, drumming rain
blossoms sink, confetti pinks,
riotous whites, collapse
in spring’s paper mache pools.

ii.

on a hot tin roof
the rain plays her wind
guitars and percussion
while the sea recharges
her engines with the
thunder of the waves.

iii.

the sound of the rain, chiming,
a crazy singer on the forlorn
lawn, stretching like an
accordion, wild in her
wilderness,  crashing
like the waves
drawing me closer to you.

iv.


you kiss me and
my heart skips a beat,
flutters with excitement.

i long for summer with her
gold sun, warm, rushing
streams and bottle-blue sea...

If George Clooney were a fisherman
would Amal have taken the bait?
If Angelina had been a char
Brad would have given her a tip
or maybe the slip
and that would'a been it.
If Montgomery were disguised as a ***
Alice would go home when her shift was done.
If your boyfriend worked down the sewer
would you go all the way down for the cure?

Do ya think Melania would'a said I Do
if he couldn't afford his daily hair-do?
Set for life or a set up for a life of strife
at the house of white?
Would Tiger be putting more *****
if Wood's be zipping it all the way up?

How many wolves in sheep's attire
get through the BS detection without
as much as an ounce of rejection?
How many I Love Yous slip down the loo
only to end up at the other end of the grand sue?

How many roses does it take to say it
when you no longer can locate it?
Makes ya yawn doesn't it!

Still we're all chomping at the bit.
Would risk it all for just one more hit,
a total hissin' fit
of the I Love Yous.