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dave-hardinPoems
Draw The Lumberjack His toque screamed French Canadian, Jacques perhaps, prominent nose broken in a brawl over a woman named Suzette or a close brush with a widow maker, ****** Niagara soaking his flannel shirt, dripping from the delta of lines describing a beard reeking of cigarettes and bug dope trimmed, if he trimmed at all, with a sliver of band saw blade stuck fast in a lump of tree gum, whiskers, after all, affording a degree of protection from clouds of black flies, one twinkling eye nesting in a profile crinkled by wood smoke and ribald bunkhouse jokes, widening in mock surprise at a sour note from a squeezebox broken on a drunken Saturday night, fanciful elements I avoided drawing in a slow, steady hand, embellishment sure to queer my chances with the juror poised to swing a bottle of champagne against the stern of my boat load of God-given talent, a launch I await patiently after all these years taking a break from the two man cross cut saw, smoking in the shade of all these doomed trees.
0
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
Draw The Lumberjack
Draw The Lumberjack His toque screamed French Canadian, Jacques perhaps, prominent nose broken in a brawl over a woman named Suzette or a close brush with a widow maker, ****** Niagara soaking his flannel shirt, dripping from the delta of lines describing a beard reeking of cigarettes and bug dope trimmed, if he trimmed at all, with a sliver of band saw blade stuck fast in a lump of tree gum, whiskers, after all, affording a degree of protection from clouds of black flies, one twinkling eye nesting in a profile crinkled by wood smoke and ribald bunkhouse jokes, widening in mock surprise at a sour note from a squeezebox broken on a drunken Saturday night, fanciful elements I avoided drawing in a slow, steady hand, embellishment sure to queer my chances with the juror poised to swing a bottle of champagne against the stern of my boat load of God-given talent, a launch I await patiently after all these years taking a break from the two man cross cut saw, smoking in the shade of all these doomed trees.
dave-hardin
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dave-hardin
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
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