today I have struggled
with the tenements of conservatism
the basic idea
of the sanctity of life
anti-abortion terrorists
picketing in front of wellness centers
screaming that the unborn fetuses
need love, protection, and a chance
a chance to starve in hopeless abject poverty
as these same pro-lifers
desire to end social programs
funded by tax dollars
and the big mean scary federal government
these impoverished babies
forced to be born
will only cry
with hungry bellies
as the neo-cons
laugh all the way to the deregulated banks….
another life held sacred,
the Middle-Eastern Muslim
not the 19 Al Qaeda individuals
who actually crashed into two buildings
killing around 3000 citizens,
no, those living and working
in Iraq,
Afghanistan,
Libya, or Syria
those brown skinned
lives of sanctity
near a million lost souls in 15 years
that you supported drone the bombing of
innocent children and women washing clothes
blown to bits
by the sanctity of the Republican Party…
life, human life,
is no more important
to a fair and just creator
than a flower or a tree
as all creation
is sacred
it must be….
or none is –
I stand in awe of the hypocrisy
****** muscles contort
draw and release
smiles hide frowns
drowning in fearful tears
as I consider the next 20 years
of American life –

stripped  away and sanded down
old love settles /

creaking knees still
bare love’s weight
sweet neck nuzzles
faint patchouli /

hot dog breath
crowds exposed legs /

tipping slightly
placing a soft kiss
onto a smooth cheek /

sunbeams through lace treatments
spotlights our tattooed rings
our eyes meet /

gently upturning
our smiles align
with the sun and moon /

timeless and constant
our love reincarnates
next time we meet
each time
until we travel the cosmos
as wind /

pandering to the lowest common
the red headed ******* brays into the void
faceless masses screech back from the darkness
begging to be fed again, shown light
offered dignity…but this day has not come
instead
the beast feasts on those least able to protect themselves
the laughter follows… --
pretentious preacher gargles wine
claiming the blood of Christ flows within him too
favored and chosen by god, we must obey whatever tomfoolery
this sociopath lays at our ingrown toenails
dried skin flakes away in the warm breeze
as displeased fleas flee the scene
no longer able to **** the impoverished blood
their hunger turns
refocusing
looking to those in power
and them which control wealth gap policy –
reptilian overloads bathe in the blood of Amber alert victims
drinking deep discontent and discord
while spreading disease through dog spit
…… my how the Americans love to give their puppies kisses on the mouth
The greatest nation pays tribute to the false image of evil incarnate
Some give this face to Obama,
others see it in the smile of Donald Trump, me,
I see it in the eyes of the apathetic child
too worried about the new call of duty game
to care if a flag means slavery
or black people are disproportionately shot by cops
to quantify, at my age, anyone under 25 is a child
sorry, youngin…  --
witnessing women liberate themselves so extremely
as to have ***** grown in laboratories
I hope unicorn women are in our future,
with big floppy black *****
surgically attached to their foreheads
this idea will certainly get them through that glass ceiling
as no one will stand in the way
for fear of being thrusted upon
by the new secretary …….
……….
Did I have a point? –

shapeless form flowing easy
whirling and twirling to infinity
colliding with memories
and creating delusion
synapsis fire seemingly random
shapeless formless mass shifts
altering long held beliefs
and morphing religious boundaries
gifting treasonous ideals
to steadfast personal decisions
without consideration to ramifications –
free flowing thoughts cascade
leaving trace elements behind
fitted with apparatus engineered
to change one’s mind
create a new thought pattern
extend and elongate the process
into criticality
the path to becoming a critical thinker
is no longer marked or taught
it has become up to the individual
to learn this important and valuable skill
lest we all vote Trump
and live on McDonalds –

Dew drops shined on the grass
Morning dew glistened on the fresh green shoots

……
The delicate dew drops
hung
at the very tips of
long and reaching
blades of green grass
in the warm summer sun

the dampness of night left its traces
dancing upon the crab
as the dawn glow shown across the valley

nearly translucent water particles
sat
waiting for the rays to transmogrify
their very structure
and give rise to photosynthesis
under the starshine

………….

Dum dum dum dum doobie doobie do
Dum dum dum dum dum
Doobie doobie …

Two dew drops walked into a straw shack
Rolled into a grass hut
Sauntered into an old saloon…..

The morning dew sent me spinning……

distant visions of dancing women
giving pause to the loggers
reeking of pine
wine glasses *****
and clinking friends make amends
sending bygones to faraway lands
bark chips in unkempt beards
appear in the florescent glow
to show a road map to the mountain
crags and snags left
for wildlife habitat
rabbit foot key chain bangs
the leg of a drunkard
who flunked out
yet runs the equipment of
a multimillion dollar outfit
no quit in the eyes
of men realizing self-worth
through **** of the earth
taped fingers set chokers snug
upon trees laid like rungs
up the barren hillside
fireside chats about bobcat tracks
and the rack on the elk that got away –

sing song poems make me mad
reading rhyming prose is sort of sad
thinking it is so clever to come up with similar sounds
in my eyes, you’ve been had –
some eight grade writing teacher gave you ****** advice
and now you can’t get rid of it, like dealing with head lice
stuck in the same old rut, just sort of hanging around
if it were up to me I would put your hand in a vice –
there is a man, they call Dr. Seuss
after his books, rhyming stopped being of use
he would make up words that no one had ever found
but, when I read your “love, dove”, “mine, fine”…it seems like abuse –
if only you allowed yourself the freedom to really shine
leave all those templates and standard structure behind
pull the corn cob out of your *** and try to get unwound
it is my contention that you might find some piece of mind –
the problem is that we can all go on like this all day
never really presenting ourselves as if we have something to say
following the mold, adding to the mound
if only I could inspire you all we might find a poetic brand new day –
I doubt it, and I am sure I will continue to read this trash
probably, stupid rhyming couplets are the only way to make some cash
but thinking of that just makes me want to hang my head down
**** the wheel into oncoming traffic, cause a horrendous car crash –
of course, this is the way of things and I might as well be spitting into the wind
no one will listen and tomorrow will be the same thing again
I will look it over and wonder what it is like to drowned
….shuffle back into the darkness, consider if I have just sinned –

i heard the sound
of knocking on my door
knocking on my door
on my door
startling my subconscious
and sending shivers down my spine
down my spine
my spine
I squatted and hid
afraid of what was to come
what was to come
to come
peeking through dingy and torn curtains
longing to see only an empty step
only an empty step
empty step
there to my surprise was an angel
hand outstretched ready to take me home
ready to take me home
take me home
I cried out as I looked back
at the pool of blood my body laid in
my body laid in
laid in
instantaneously the realization came
and I reached out for the hand of god
for the hand of god
of god
no more pain, discontent, guilt
I was now free, but still held some regret
still held some regret
some regret
sometimes we come to an understanding
well beyond the point of too late
point of too late
too late –

wood-grain finish, extra varnish
tarnished button tipped to the right.
fighting urges surging through blue
undoing years of misdirection
unprotected table top dulled sits dusty
rusted nails protruding slightly
nightly visits from the drunken
stunk up pressboard with cigar and beer
nearly every inch a memory
chemistry to delivery
eating so many family meals
dealing cards and outlining plans
landing strip for wayward model airplanes
painfully, I carry it out to the burn pile
smiling slightly as a piece of history
mysteriously drifts away as smoke –

Taking stock
I find myself
Needing only one thing
Always seeking this feeling

Looking back over near thirteen years
You seem to me to be a perfect vision of loveliness
Never giving me reason to be sad

Today, I think about our love
Even in stressful  times
Made difficult by financial worries,
Poor communication or misunderstandings,
Love and laughter are the constant
Every day I fall for you again

you cross my mind and stop my tracks
momentarily I’m trapped
my only ability, it seems
is let go, fall into the dream

standing in the hallway frozen
passersby barley even glance
I stand motionless, my feet stuck
feeling a slight sway, almost drunk

eyes glaze and memories take charge
mere minutes have passed since last touch
it may as well be a lifetime
since last I held your hands in mine

radio crackle brings me back
my surroundings come into view
forced to be present in my life
when I want to be with my wife

**** it up, Sam, this is your lot
the little voice inside me says
each eight hours you are apart
gives you the time to rest your heart

absence they say makes for fondness
too much of good things can be bad
I risk being so totally sappy…..
she is the only thing makes me happy

talking heads
discuss the moral fiber of America
but they mean
rich,
white,
elitist
fibers….
what about the fiber of those who helped slaves escape
at risk of their own peril?
what about long-haired kids from the Height
building communes in the California forests?
what about those firemen who ran into burning buildings
to rescue humans regardless of race, creed, or color?
rich,
white
elitist men,
don’t care….
look at the native traditions of living
harmoniously within the natural order of the planet/
look across the impoverish third world lands
and the way families feed each other, tend to children,
work for the common good/
look at the medical marijuana movement
freely giving pounds to sick or autistic children/
rich,
white,
elitist men,
don’t care….
these men only care about making money
off the backs of the less fortunate
expanding the bottom line
while maintaining the status quo
taking care of the shareholders
at the detriment of the entire planet….
rich,  
white,
elitist men,
care about that….

glancing up over the top of her reading glasses
looking at me, smiling
fingers extend out towards my resting arm
and we touch –
gathering blooms from the miniature rose bush
light footfalls in the garden beds
a soft exhale passes my ear as delicate fingers fall onto my shoulder
and she touches me –
checking the blind spot before a left turn
reaching out absentmindedly to turn down the radio
as I have thought of another inconsequential piece of random…
fingers touch my leg –
soft flutes signify the work alarm has sprung into life
encrusted eyes struggle to open against the new breaking day
a slight change in the steady breathing means she is also awake
she reaches over to touch my exposed back –
each day new ways come to light
every moment new feelings of excitement and peace
I close my eyes to think of her beauty and grace
and I am touched –

wildly winding mountain road
descending elevation blurs
careening towards freedom
the darkness seems to follow ~
white knuckled and madly steering
screeching wheels struggle to grip
gaskets swell with petroleum pressure
radiator coolant hisses and spits ~

a long exhale on a straight stretch
a droplet of harsh mortality
leaves the temple
and travels its own downhill journey
twisting along the neck
banking on the pectoral incline
picking up speed slaloming belly hair ~

slamming the transmission into first
engine whine echoes
howling moan bounces off canyon walls
as the cramp in my colon reaches
maximum ache
I drop the metaphor and head to the toilet /

pagan traditions
called Christian
dot the marketplace
face to face
with the race to place the best display case
on front street
beating feet I retreat
feeling mistreated
I stop for a treat
both salty and sweet
my need is complete –
fleet of foot,
I stagger not
as I leap the creepy sheep
eyeballs pressed to the glass
fascists passing off as classy
massively underestimating
the passion of the impoverished
wishing the dish next to me liked to kiss
I blissfully whistle into the wind –
laboriously porous
the stories hold no weight
only serving to date me
plated and shelved I delve into other interests
such as the tide pools
old fools and the perfect guitar playing stool
drool pools
your interest wanes
it’s plain to see this has lost direction
yet here we are
together again…
I see you –

thanklessly the bankers
of Wall Street
meet in discrete fields
just outside of Tupelo
plotting to further victimize
the middle of America
through interest rate hikes
and trickle down economic theory
clearly they only have our interests
in heart…
corporate hedge funds
send tons of
industrial sludge
to ponds near elementary schools
where the rules are
pick up your messes
I guess they skipped that day of class…
rash covered babies
with minimal lung function
sit at the crossroads
or junction
of a nation in transition
the plight of the people is lost
on the wealthy unregulated
impoverished men sit
waiting for a V.A. date
and the medication necessary
to combat PTSD and hold down a job
loggers with broken backs attack
environmentalists
for risking their lives to save
species…the flora and fauna
but the powers that be don’t wanna…
the United States needs a comma –

soft acoustic plucking
reverberating strings
buzzing tones flutter
freely creating visions
differing from space to space
occupied between my ears
twists whole majors into 7th quarters
altering the landscape from within
bleeding fingertips hide broken verses
note for note we lie to the sound
expressing pleasure in the mundane –
gently strumming with loving caresses
melodic to the point of melancholy
old tears sit on a stained floor
eclipsing the smiling children
that hide just beyond the glass pane
glossing the pain with symbolic imagery  
a crucifix dangles
swaying to and fro
barely audibly tapping the fat statue of an enlightened oriental
in the shadow of a dream catcher
made not by native americans
but instead by undernourished brown waifs—
bending tones for a better view
I shed the physical and go incorporeal

electric tingle travels spinally
and I exhale a breath 17 years held
double dose gel cap
freed again through LSD ~

vibrating with bass drops
howling without control
fixated on raindrops sliding
along glass
behind the pane
wet leaves tremble /

furrows of worry smooth
deep inhalation
and memories of peaceful transgression
replace twitching eye lid
and monetary concern ~

having forgotten my old self
what a pleasure it is to see me
again /

I stepped out of the Honda
and onto the sidewalk
for the first time in my life
I was keenly aware of both my skin color
and the lack of any similarity
as I scanned my surroundings
brotha’s shoulder to shoulder
lined the fence
every ten or twelve feet
there were groups
five or six deep in circles
many eyes cast glances my way –
at the corner the stranger and
would be savior
offered me a wooden handle
serrated blade
kitchen steak knife
presenting it as a way to feel safe….
I laughed…
“No one is going to see me take a knife from you”
“I am just a sick ******, man… I don’t want no trouble.”
he laughed back at me and with me
“Don’t sweat, Cuz…”
“I was a homeless ****** in Seattle for a while,
we’ll take care of ya.”
I stood for what seemed an eternity
at this makeshift park/ work-out station
looking down the alley at tarps
against tarps
strapped to tarps
and thought this was not the L.A.
you see on T.V. –
about the time I was sure I got robbed
and was now going to have to find my car
and leave downtown
broke
and sick….
dude rounded the bend…
he spit into his hand
at a glance I saw ten little balloons
containing something dark and mysterious
a smile spread across my face
he matched my excitement
and offered me safe travel back to my ride
when we got back to the car
I dropped two balloons and 10 bones
into his ashy and worn hand
he smiled,
“get the **** on outta here, boy”
I took his advice and drove out of Los Angles
right back up Hollywood Boulevard,
past the freaky freakies
and the mass of homeless
to the first rest area on the freeway…. –

feldspar conglomerate
pyrite flakes sparkle
basalt backdrop
…granted, the granite
is liken to a gneiss
but placed near the soap or sand
it stands alone without chip-ability
raw uncut opal sending prisms dancing
against the distorted garnet plug –
her ruby lips shown bright
against the chert and ashen
speckles of flint
diamond twinkles
fall from topaz tear ducts
land softly on an emerald blazer
adorned with ruby buttons –
****** at the rock show
I marvel and the marble
and experience simpatico with a sapphire
while the tourmaline tantalizes my taste buds
sending me reeling into a radical thunder egg
as the agates flew *****-nilly
I groped blindly for a brick to steady myself
but instead fell hard onto the concrete
or was it asphalt….
either way, I may as have well been tarred and feathered
dipped in oil
and sent to the borax plant –

for so many years
a wall stood in Berlin
separating families
instigating fears
Trump wants to do this again
this time on American soil
like Mexican migrant workers are what’s wrong in this country
and aiding the less fortunate is the greatest of sin
we eat of their sweat, feast on their toil
and blame them for draining the economy
this land was theirs before manifest destiny
the injustice makes my blood boil
I really am thinking the man needs a lobotomy
watching him spew insanity from the pulpit
driving the frothing crowd of idiots into a frenzy
these hypocrites turn their backs on 30:19 Deuteronomy
a den of wolves is no place to raise up a kit
and this anti-hero is about to feed the masses to the fire
his election will be the true end of America
and we will all drown in the proverbial ****
but I think you should vote for him as the earth is already down to the wire
climate change and fukushima have us all in the cross-hairs
the incoming asteroid to end all life and the oil dollar crash
enough to make this ole doomer perspire –

~



you look deep into my eyes
turn your head slightly to the left and
smile with teeth

I hold this moment all day until we
sit again within each other’s caress
I experience the economy of love

harsh truths of a life addicted
play in the backdrop of our marriage
she tells me we are o.k.

and I believe

as years blend and time fades
we share these moments of fresh air

as we travel hand in hand
this road of relationship

planning always for the next incarnation
and finding one and other lifetime after lifetime  /

incorruptible turnip
belly-up
exposed to the glow
of an unforgiving sun-star
mildly baking and exchanging
soft whites and purples
for damaged yellow
tan shifting to brown
wrinkles
form…
ants and flies hurriedly scurry
attempting to de-flesh
and undress
this mess left by migrant workers
rolling free from the bouncing truck
the still moist turnip
looked east
longing to be blended into
a fine cream soup—
**** potatoes

seamlessly shifting to future planning
scuttlebutts rebuff fluffernutter sandwiches
for something a little more… sophisticated
grease coated floatation device
slices dried mice precisely
clandestine militants throw rice
at the merger of church and state
hate groups **** on social norms
******* the truck drivers for ****
in rest area bathrooms –
doom laden maidens raid
safe houses set up  by underpaid feds
wretched and withdrawn, occupants pant
sweltering heat defeats all who enter
and the centrists flinch as both wings fling scented mud clods –
the gods of old sit on high watching the unfolding drama
three llamas graze peacefully on a Peruvian hillside
tide breaks shake useless dunes
and ruined looms sit broken
reminding the aged
of a non-mechanized life –

Holy cow, watch that ***** shake
As she twerks up and down
You know, my lord, that ain’t no fake
It **** near slaps the ground

To watch her twerk is amazing
Giving me a notion
…Need a better view of that thing
See up close that motion

I’m memorized, I sit and stare
Caught up in that movement
***** bouncing beyond compare
twerk be all heaven sent

truth be told I hate this whole trend
young girls objectified
there’s more to you than a rear-end
on second thought…I lied

washed-up has-been
rummaging through yesteryears
moth-balled memorabilia
catches a momentary reflection
in a cracked and stained mirror –
wrinkled cheekbones and saggy jowls
encircle puffy eyes,
red from lack of peaceful sleep
chapped lips
and hanging skin particles
look back, sadly –
beyond the mirror
and the defeated image
the sun shines
on an open lot
filled with boys and bats
all dreaming of a time
in which they can be famous. –

~
tension swirled tornado style
within the confine of a judicial chamber
parties argued in the din
and slow steady breathing found one plaintiff

barely able to see walls meet
blue eyes fell into a fixed gaze
voices drifting on waves of blue-green
carried a body without substance across golden fields

darting sparrows altered the sky
creating patches of shadow and cloud
then turning and switching pace
uniform movements seemed military and precise

still, an ethereal accused traveled wide skies
watching rooftops pass and fade into horizon
then the deserts and forests came and went
sea’s followed and disappeared

back in the barren walled room
raised voices told tales of chairs electrically charged
a lifetime of punishment for a moment of indiscretion
these noises found a smile
as heaven had been found and was internal.  /

sitting, contemplating trends
considering trending
in the popular vernacular
#*** #longhairdontcare
Did you read hashtag?
Did you read number?
#number

1- Totes inaprope dope smoker swisher toker blunt wrap roper you be like my ole aunt groper
2- She be grabbin ***** on all ya’ll in the Fall by the ball court short shorts and written reports
3- ******* dorks and eatin pork like nanu nanu Mork with a stork baby drop on the porch
4- Carry the torch to the couch jump up ta bounce see a fool to trounce and slap in the head
5- Make him brain dead said I see red in bedrooms full a un-wed mothers slack jaw brothers
6- Druther act like one another than smother muthafuckers with rubber maid garbage cans
7- Hand feeding planned partenthood in the hood acting no good wit mad wood ya shoulda
8- Put those down came round and found a pound for slingin, bringing back the Ringling elephants
9- And cellophane wrapper sandwiches ******* snitching on rich kids for gambling small wagers
10- Drunken rage-ers deranged rangers feeding bears strangers and rearranging body parts
11- Carded farters impart special gasses on mass media fascists  allowing brash

I once found a unicorn horn
But my peers only met me with scorn
I made such a wish
Turned into a fish
And swan for the sea until morn

I took the horn and held it up high
Said a prayer to the lord of the sky
Thunder did clap
And I fell into a trap
That cost me my left arm and one eye

I cast the horn off a cliff
Into a vast cavernous rift
It bounced right back up
Broke my best cup
Which was going to cause me a tiff

See, my wife had just bought me that glass
And now she would kick my whole ***
First with a boot
Just like in Beirut
Where they stomp you for not wearing a sash

I have fallen right off of the point
Probably from smoking that joint
This was about a fine horn
From a unicorn born
By the oil which was once used to anoint

a religious twist enters the plot
some of you like that a lot
but it was just a trick
like a bordered **** pic
as I turn the piece back to green ***

see I grow for the boys and girls
in a field on top of the world
vast fields of ****
are all that I need
to keep all my drawstrings unfurled

but a unicorn has no need of strings
or any such silly ole things
with a magical neigh
he just sauntered away
so I’ll end this song just as it sings

breaking out of a broken home
misery makes for interesting bedfellows
the project blocks shrink in the distance
while he makes his way for parts unknown
     thinkin about being full grown

odd jobs fill the lonely days
and hunger pains give the night hours life
looking out from a tattered box
understanding all his dreams are blown
     wishing he was really full grown

on an oil crew just outside of Gnome
spring in Alaska so nice and mellow
attempting to make a living wage, meeting resistance
feeling like he is all alone
     knowing he is not full grown

on his knees he sits and prays
to grant him happiness, to take a wife
without a key, he picks the locks
like a mighty bird already flown
     he waits and waits to be full grown

through his matted hair he pulls a comb
the tangles cause him to scream and bellow
but he doesn’t give up relaying on his persistence
never realizing he is completely owned
     which is the year he becomes full grown

on the soft grass he stares and lays
looking back on the years of strife
imagining himself free like the Fox
escaping his lips, a defeated moan
     I may not live long enough to be full grown

in a nice wool suit sitting by the phone
looking out at the daffodils blooming yellow
a flash of realization hits him in an instance
all I do is **** and groan
    waiting to be told that I am full grown

peace surrounds him and the feeling stays
rest finds him, granting and end to his life
buried now under clumpy dirt and rocks
he died as he lived without ever getting the bone
    not really knowing he was always full grown

--each a world
unto themselves--curiously will also die,     -Butch Decatoria


one world breaks free
leaving behind inadequacies constructed
dark matter parting
like crowds for an EMT
the power of a siren
when colored with blood and fear

transient bellhops eagerly reach
calloused hands slick with Vaseline
attempting to alleviate any misunderstandings
through suggestive banter and rubbing of their crotch..
bile rises with fervor
tightly clasped hands only rainbow the spew

“is this really happening?”
swaying trees seems to whisper
sharpened chains rip away time
answers drift down polluted streams –

hurtful words and sarcasm
are given freely to facebook and twitter
an attempt to combat lunacy
becoming the purveyor of crazy
in a land of madmen
my crown cuts deeper than any ole thorn –
self-righteousness oozing from open sores and oil clogged pores
tis a snore
for the ******
they gather in droves, old ***’s lost in blow
both ******* and **** *******
I watch sickened, unable to curb my stare –
wave after wave of useless children
forgotten by the culture that forced their births
adorn sidewalks greedily holding out ***** fingers
begging for patriotic flavored candy
brightly packaged
hiding the poisons
brilliantly –
the brain dead society at large shuffles worn shoes
across roadways littered with magazine advertisements
and perfume samples
blind to their arrogance
building new homes on yesterday’s landfills
tearing down school houses of the past
for robotic manufacturing canters
….. I’ll not be riding the eternal hamster wheel without a fight –

blindly towing the party line
rows of lemmings looking for death
of the American dream on cable television
in selected cities –
bile rises as another exploitation campaign begins
trapping the masses
tricking the weak into buying
materialism as success
bane of existence
thy name is consumerism
sheeple mindlessly following each other into mini-mall after
mini-mall
seeking the perfect shoes and spatula
for holiday gifts
and office exchanges
fat liar holding children with a big red *******
to match his suit
singing the praises of pokemon and ninjago
to medicated youths –
broken parents drag zombie bodies into darkened rooms
flopping down in front of the propaganda machine
for another dose of reality
brought to them by GMO foods and Multi-national oil companies
as they are the only ones who
truly understand the public –
tears well as I realize my isolation
only awake soul in a land of sleep-walkers
and everyone is so over-medicated
I am unable to rouse a soul
….just scream in blank faces
wait for 2016
and plan my mountain escape –

A light came from up in the sky

It totally captured my eye

                     Set down on three legs

                            Smelled a little of eggs


                                       And left the ground smoky and dry

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
mean dogs barking brightly
vertical tails give false messages
as faces are what they love to eat best –
mange ridden feline aids victim
one eye and broken teeth
missing fur patch
shows damaged skin
all that remains from the barn fire of ’96 –
stained overalls with a blown out crotch
hang, damp, over peeling and faded porch railings
one rusty nail working its way free
tip coated with skin residue and 3 blue denim strings
flies buzz absentmindedly –
from afar the high threatened clucking
of the last layer hen
moving across the dusty driveway
seems the weasels have gained coup access
soon, just a mass of bloodied feathers
and the foul stench of fowl blood
cooking in the early Fall
will be all that lives within –
wind gusts pick up unfastened composition shingles
sending them sailing through the air
landing gently in an overgrown garden area
free from weeding, seedlings, tending
or love –