Chant with me. The words. Mea
Culpa. I am sorry it’s almost always
English.  Je suis desolee.
But, the Power
of our club is your language and mine are blood kin.
I may not understand your meaning, but if you’re writing:
I will get your Drift.

Visiting my parents I learned
that I am being played,  a game
in which I am board and piece and ****** weapon.
When a picture of me sulky toddler evokes “You always hated me”
roots uncurl hibernated spores stored
through my salad days and youthful spring.
Broach the soil as I ****, ankles grabbed,
leg-locked planted firm reaching.
What do you think grows down there? Digging has
turned up rotted fibers, matted hairs and husks.

Old houses play mind games at night
Fans , clocks and creaking Pine floors
Rattling pipes , Squirrels in the attic ,
wind shut screen doors
Tin roofs on rainy nights bring hypnotic
rest , shutters , however , unlatched on a stormy
eve can stand you straight up in the bed
Old barn cats hissing , Hoot owls in nearby trees  ,
Coyotes singing to the Moon , June bugs hitting
windows and Rabbit dogs barking at midnight Deer
Dripping faucets , ice makers , Rhode Island Red
roosters and that fool warming up his Harley at
six a.m. , morning paper skipping across the driveway
followed by the march of the school buses at seven bells ,
It's no wonder I'm crazy as Hell

Good black coffee , toasted pumpernickel bread and mushroom soup
have stoked the imagination of this writer on many afternoons

Four bottles litter the floor
but life I do adore
people drink and see
the present is all that be

Another man's shoes never quite fit
the way you'd expect them to
but hey
go figure,
it's the walk that shapes the feet
and everyone's gone places
they would never visit
again

we think we're all on the same page
but
we're writing different books

we think we're literate but
we can only read our own story
and somehow,
every message we send is
unintentionally
encrypted
in ways the greatest minds couldn't decipher
yet we all look up and see
the same sky
the same moon
the same stars
and we all call this land
Own