I love you.
Have you eaten ?
I love you.
How did that assignment go in the end ?
I love you.
There’s kombucha in the fridge
I love you.
There’s this song I think you’ll like
I love you.
Did you get home okay?
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

Thursday, September 22
in Northern Hemisphere 9:03 PM
Eastern Daylight Time

Empyrean découpage citadel
betokens (bespeaks) autumnal arrival
nine oh three post meridian
chariot of fire emblazons telltale signature,
one humble human doth
bid summer and his squandered life adieu.

Already crisp cool mornings
sun kissed mine cheek
refreshing air wafts thru longish hair
trademark characteristic property
aging pencil neck geek
attends brief bathroom charge coffee
exotic brew jolted kidneys leak
***** not kidding water closet doth reek.

Especially third season upon us mortals
Montgomery county, Pennsylvania
said geographic real estate sloughs
(i.e. sheds) summer dog days
necessitating shuddered windows
disallowing natural aeration
to circulate thru unit B44
cozy one bedroom apartment.

I will stave off clicking on the heat,
as long as possible,
yet invariably come first frost
yours truly will renege
and surrender creature comfort,
albeit climate controlled temptation
similar when global warming
quite evident predicated upon
Farmers' Almanac prophetic prediction.

Though ecology minded
quick acclimation to unseasonable
hot or cold temperatures
finds me adjusting thermostat dial
mainly to thwart palmar hyperhidrosis
regarding turning on air conditioning
during sweltering triple digit
(Fahrenheit) thermometer readings,
versus absent sweaty hands
courtesy old man winter arctic blast.

Ah... remembrance of wood burning stove papa lit,
to dispense chill pervading childhood home
324 Level Road christened "Glen Elm"
within national (local registry)
when Leiper family initially occupied estate
at that time (think early twentieth century)
merely intended as summer getaway.

This time of year finds me
to reminisce and wax poetic
nostalgia more pronounced,
particularly as aspiring wordsmith
orbitz the sun seemingly with greater rapidity
twelve months cycling at light speed
ruminating, punctuating, and narrating mortality

accentuated when flora and fauna
exhibit metaphorical raiment
presaging Mother Nature's fall fashion show
linkedin with approaching senescence
prompting generic garden variety **** sapien
to rue his transience upon oblate spheroid.

Gentrification impossible mission
thus thy lovely bones will subsequently
become repurposed into  ashes
sprinkled hither and yon to and fro
across elysium fields of happy hunting grounds.

Running down the edge;
Toward the bottom;
The last bit of the storm.
No more thunder.
No more lightning.
Just the reminder.
The last drip.
Glistening in the sun.
Power surrendered;
Glistening in the heat of day.

The hungry
and the
the hunted

The visions
we never see

The fleet
and
fastidious

The ones
terminally ill
in turbidity


Where flare
the hearts
synchronize

The words
form meek
and criticize

But they
wind up
wounded

Not even dead . . .
the included are
excluded

The complex
complicity
swirling

The truth
comes down
a barreling

All around
occupies

deep
inside
the place

Drains the tears

he's had
to learn
to face

Now
he leans upon
the crutch

the vacuum
of years

Looking into the
mirror

Peers into the face

Petrified
he is bound

left standing
out of place

He has
no answers

Just the
dismay found
upon his face

Desperate
for a reason
why

But nothing
comes
near nor nye

just the image
of the fossil
in his eye

I planted a poem in a corn field
It sprouted and grew straight and tall
But its stalk was naked and bare of any pages
All the ears of corn could hear the wicked whispers about the corn **** amidst the corn rows of golden silky hair .