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porch talk, simmering in a Bud light sauce everyone chair-rocking, even the boxer dog, in his self-propelled 360 degree swiveling chair eavesdropping and spy eyeballing the farm for strangers and any creatures as of yet, unsmelled get done with weather, the crops, the neighbors, the weird, and the truly neighborly, grandkids escapades, hopes and desires, comparative literature and regional dialects and philosophical dialecticals tickling, bs’ing and tall tale telling,  breathing the windy geography of the air over the land that dictates the how we live, open another Bud for the buds, did I forget to mention farm equipment? skirt politics cause nobody wants any nothing-to-be-done-damn-aggravation, leaves nothing mo’ to ramble on about ‘cept the absent women no worries all above board no secrets uncouthed, but the mood softens as the pale daylight wisps come rarer as now nearer to nine pm, obvious saved the best for last, a very manly-way of ordering things, big silent pauses in the converso conversation, guy-sighs many, as the last essay of the day is being jointly authored, denotating the generalized listings of how they drive us crazy, listing the repetition of ever changing instructions, which doesn't recognize bi-coastal mannerisms,  non-differentiating just  humanism-isms and the peculiarities of each (a list kept) in a compare and contrast, an end of the day summation, and the boasting-outbesting, of each of their specialisms which is sadly now forgotten and which haven’t been brain-recorded so cannot be disclosed other than it’s now ten and all that’s left is to sleep, perchance, to dream, of private things and bigger and better John Deere tractors
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Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
Songs of Oregon: No. 4 when men talk about their women, when they are not around
porch talk, simmering in a Bud light sauce everyone chair-rocking, even the boxer dog, in his self-propelled 360 degree swiveling chair eavesdropping and spy eyeballing the farm for strangers and any creatures as of yet, unsmelled get done with weather, the crops, the neighbors, the weird, and the truly neighborly, grandkids escapades, hopes and desires, comparative literature and regional dialects and philosophical dialecticals tickling, bs’ing and tall tale telling,  breathing the windy geography of the air over the land that dictates the how we live, open another Bud for the buds, did I forget to mention farm equipment? skirt politics cause nobody wants any nothing-to-be-done-damn-aggravation, leaves nothing mo’ to ramble on about ‘cept the absent women no worries all above board no secrets uncouthed, but the mood softens as the pale daylight wisps come rarer as now nearer to nine pm, obvious saved the best for last, a very manly-way of ordering things, big silent pauses in the converso conversation, guy-sighs many, as the last essay of the day is being jointly authored, denotating the generalized listings of how they drive us crazy, listing the repetition of ever changing instructions, which doesn't recognize bi-coastal mannerisms,  non-differentiating just  humanism-isms and the peculiarities of each (a list kept) in a compare and contrast, an end of the day summation, and the boasting-outbesting, of each of their specialisms which is sadly now forgotten and which haven’t been brain-recorded so cannot be disclosed other than it’s now ten and all that’s left is to sleep, perchance, to dream, of private things and bigger and better John Deere tractors
Songs of Oregon No. 4
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
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