A little ditty bout Karl and DiAnne
Two old kids living in the heartland
Karl he gonna be the next Bukowski
DiAnne the beauty he loved in the backseat

******* on a bud on the porch
Dianne sitting on his lap
His hands tween her knees

C'mon Dianne let's run off
neath the shady trees
Dribble off them Bobby Brooks
Let me do
What I please

Ten cats
Two dogs singing

Oh yeah
Life goes on

Long after
All the kibble
Is gone

Karl sits back
Collects his thoughts for a moment
Thinks
With you and all
These
Animals

I ain't missing
Nothing.

Oh yeah

Life goes on

There shall be white words
To praise Love's creed
Ruled out by courts of reason
And traded saint by saint
To merchants of salvation

There shall be black words
To mourn the season
Rising out of ailing credence
Turning healers into dealers
Under the tubes of  loaded laws

There shall be red words
To brand Love's defeat
With scars of history
while tenor of last lines
Chase an undying dream...

A morning orchard walk,
myself, two dogs and
two following barn cats.
Repeated often, a shared
companionable reverie
of mutual tranquility.
An odd family of sorts,
devotion comes is many forms.



  My woman is the essence of being, she gathers the ruin of the day to offer moonbeams. Her touch, geared to moods of the moment, oscillates between slap and caress.... is always, though, kind, considerate, caring and layered betwixt lavender levels of love.
Mother of my boys, protector of the clan, matriarch and Monarch. My Janet, the very love of my life.
M.

They keep warning:
Love is CYANIDE.
It is lethal.

I keep cajoling:
It is OXYGEN.
The lack of it is.