Old Man Kennedy's ghost haunts these -
hallways just as always
Forever seeking a student without a pass ,
prima facie evidence for a swat on the ***
Though his likeness today is sealed in portrait glass ,
he continually peers into each door window -
to monitor the class
His dress shoes still echo throughout this -
former place of learning
Seeking the naughty with unquenchable yearning* ..

Digging a hole to
create a pond for -
beauty and amusement
Digging a hole to cement
a footing for a museum of -
Randolph's trinkets and -
books
Digging a foxhole to battle
the government
A hole to house my remains
A hole to constrain the flames -
of a pyre filled with treatises of capitalism -
and democracy turned demonic
A hole to conceal firewater and
other 'medicinal tonics'
Digging a hole just to pass the day
A hole growing deeper in every way* ...

Walking a serpentine trail
Golden leaves fall in wind fueled -
simultaneous release , a crag above
the creek offered her lover a choice seat
Skipping flint-stones downstream
The early morning masterpiece was a sweet dream
Bluegill performed underwater ballet -
for an audience of one
Soft shelled turtles clung to frozen -
driftwood in search of new day sun
She is freedom
Free to meander all obstacles in search -
of the heavenly sea
I am her apprentice
Held in dubious physicality

Good evening streetlight
You've been promoted to a star
Your white light shall bathe this -
planetary cul-de-sac come dusk
The asphalt and grassland inhabitants will journey -
from afar , attracted to your beaming , -
mind consuming elegance with eyes -
wide open an mouths ajar
The katydids and crickets will chatter jealously as the -
moths and mayflies endlessly circle
Tree frogs will perform concertos in thy name
Aviator grasshoppers will annotate thy location -
across the great magnetic plane
Your benefactors will sing your praises
Poems and stories will tell of your divine -
energy and grace* ...

The branches reach illogically  
Searching for order in woodland -
chaos
They're trimmed in leaves of blue , high above -
red grass bordering a pink roadway , green
clouds speckle the mustard ceiling in the -
afternoon foray of time and reason
I am a living god born anew each second
Receiving my personal earth in tardy installments

Furniture burns quite well should the -
need arise
A quilt will cover a whistling window
Thick socks make good mittens , a fiery -
book of Sandburg will heat my soul most dandy
and smitten
The lake shall provide fish just as -
the charcoal grill will offer a place to heat them
Snow will turn to water , mother woodland will offer -
plentiful piedmont herbs , roots and berries to -
sustain and medicate
When these material nothings are depleted-
I will forage the landscape as needed
Determined as the bobcat , frozen as the hunting heron
With cold reserve and insatiable hunger* ...

As I fly through galactic congregations -
will I become static on the receiver of -
an alien nation
A race consumed in the thought of
extraterrestrials , a tiny blip recorded
at a radar station
I would fly into their greatest population
center , meet their leaders , address their
teachers , baffle their scholars and brief
their doctors
Leave them with a poem from Whitman ,
a song from the Beatles , tales of oceans ,
mountains and country hamlets complete
with tiny , smiling stick figures
Drawings of lakes , bluebirds , skyscrapers and city lanes
Green grass , blue sky and flowered plains* ...