My friend asks
me where I get
the fodder for
writing my poems.
I tell him, life.
He says that's too
simple.
He isn't satisfied.
I tell him that
sometimes, I sit at
my desk and open
the window above the
litterbox, and look
outside at the
orange daylilies and
wait.

He says he writes
from a small place above
his left ear.
It tickles at times, but
often it's painful.
I nod and make a
note to call my
doctor about the
headaches I've been having.

He reads his posey at
the coffee shops while
drinking espresso and
chatting with the other
young poets in sweaters.
I tell him that I used
to live under a bridge,
I read my poems to the
savage river and the
Mallard ducks, and the
drunk friends that
wandered in for a drink of
***** or a beer.
He says the little place above
his left ear is beginning to
hurt.

I walk him to the door and
tell him goodbye.
He asks if I will come
to the coffee shop to
hear him read his poetry.
"Sure", I say, smiling blankly.
After closing the door,
I sit and smile at the view from
my window.
I can smell the freshly cut
grass, and hear the
grinding whine of the
lawnmower.
A woman across  
the street is lying in
the sun.
She's wearing a turquoise
bikini and big sunglasses.
Just then, a slight hint
of coconut wafts into my room.
I get hard and pick up the pen.

Sprinklers Watering the garden yard
a turtle slid down a hill landing hard. Walking on a path of cobble stone
is a Precarious way to say hello alone

Super dog noticed him first
Very curious searching for a water burst 
 Big as a football came from good seed.
The first order of business, food weeds,

A box water greenery survival what to eat.
Definitely keep them off of the street.
Identified as A Red Eyed Slider Turtle
common for these parts their fertile  

Yellow and Red stripes on his face and feet.
His shell looks like he took some heat.
Sticking his head out of his Shell
To look at his new space safe and well

Standing on his hind feet tall
Trying to get over the box wall
This turtle’s habitat is in water a float
Filled water in the base of the boat

Was this a pet, asked neighbors to no avail
He needed a forever home too early to tell
Turtle bay will not take a stray
Haven humane had a lot to say

Wild turtles are common in these parts
Will travel miles to water he’s smart
Take him to a lake river or stream
One that doesn’t dry up from heat steam

A water source fountainhead to call home
A place with other turtles, so he’s not alone
Twin pines Mobile home has a large pond
Two streams run in and out far beyond

The pond is home to ducks turtles frogs
Elderly spy deer while they walk dogs
A protected sanctuary Critters of all kinds
Look closely count how many you can find

The turtle was put on the bank of the pond
His examined the water beyond
He slid down the bank a torpedo tank
One smooth swoop, and he was gone

in the middle of the pond an island bar
His head popped up his swim wasn’t far
The Pond leads to rivers streams as far as San Francisco Bay many places to play

I imagine he came for help that fateful day
Escaping heat no water red dirt of clay
Little fertile turtle our two day turtle
We visit. He has a home to roam and play

golden curtains and hard wood floor
longing and lightning

I dream a dozen roses.

I want to hear your voice
I need to feel you

sitting next to me

i dream a dozen roses, beloved

and golden curtains touching the hard wood floor

I dream a dozen roses. little bird

your heart smiles,
angels and wings waiting

one spirit

I dream a dozen roses
white in color,
heart shaped
filled with hope

I dream a dozen roses,
are you still here
dear sister, Lisa?

surely

gentle spirit,
dear sister

darling of light

I dream a dozen roses

Suddenly
the lights
turn
back on,

After 3
screeches
from the
transformer,

And a week
of sleeping
on the leather
couch

And the
tile floors
when it
got too hot,

A sense
of relief
rushes
through me,

The ac turns
back on
and I turn
the kitchen
lamps on,

It feels alive,
it breaths
through
the walls,

And exhales
through
the old vents.

Not allowed, read a book.

------------------
Yes, people do read books,
but many do not really read
as when a summer boredom

takes a kid to Grandpa's book shelf,
aha, look a book my grandfather read,

now, this kid is reading Magnificent Obsession,

and I sow the counter punch, with Jesse Duplantis
secret sowing prosperity message arisen from that.
Bilk, tilt, ah, Tilton and Alamo, too, obsessed
with the shine, serpent on a pole,
not the wise one tippy tail on this very point. You know?

Advertised wisdom for the attention paid,
watch the candle flicker, these are holy candles,
all the work of actual pollinators, raised on clover,

which we also feed our red heifers which we breed,
just in case, some day the businesses of mass
religion agree to stop selling fear of totally

insane influencers of thousands, in the days
of billions believing time ends, right after

News from yesterday,
while lythium ion carry ons

are brought to public attention, then an ad,

then there is healthier handsomer than in a while
Biden being physically older than NATO, really not
which he takes credit for, make note, just in case,
it turns out not to have been
so good a deal, we sell bombs, that we buy
to create jobs, we play cop, and currency
goes global, well, who's left to pay
for all these unused bombs?
-------------
Credit from Mali,
when
Shield our augmented eyes, to look into ever before,
gold held holds worth in ways we never imagined,
look out there, a million miles away a long now,

conception of LaGrange points and Roche limits

how come the earth to be, right here,
we ask but only liars venture a valid wager,

we may know now more than ever,
should we ever dare, one entire day,

in a time when a grandfather involved
in our information intended to reform,
the duty of Jubilee to the story,
after fifty years of never reconsidering
the need an almighty entity might have,

as an addiction, praise and honor and glory,
amen, it always spills onto the anointed message,

yes, His holy word,
as prophets hear spoken in lost angel tongues,
no lie can be told, bold as hell, is professed to be,
"Prove me now, if the authority… allows"

tell me, child,
do you really know what believing does?

Slight smile in the zone of thinking either real
or answered prayer, on earth as my perfected will

well may imagine

utilizing… using for the paid attention,
way long time ago, your granny prayed, god give
this boy the good sense you give green apples,

and I'd be ****** if I said he didn't.
Far as I can tell, mustard knows a little more.

Millions of thoughts, an empty mind,
Searching for purpose, losing time.
Passion gone, interest fades,
Business struggles, debts cascade.

Stuck in a rut, years go by,
Losses grow, dreams seem to die.
Trapped in debt, feeling alone,
No one to talk to, all on your own.

Nights are long, days are gray,
Hopes and dreams seem far away.
But deep inside, a spark remains,
A whisper calls through all the pain.

To rise above, break the mold,
A story of courage yet to be told.
Amid the dark, a light is found,
A chance to turn life back around.

With each step, a new chance grows,
In the garden of tomorrow, hope still sows.
Though the path is rough and steep,
It's dreams pursued that hearts shall keep.

So stand tall, embrace the fight,
For in the darkest hour, stars shine bright.
Though life is hard and challenges steep,
It's in the journey that dreams we keep.

~
"Why is there only one chair in this room?"

"This once was an island." She replied.

"You favor this place then, I take it?"

"How can I not," said she. "The dawn here is quiet."

"Not on this floor, you are much mistaken! The stairs are like an avalanche."

Looking down at herself, she quickly changed the subject. "There are barcodes on each breast now."

"I see. Were you nervous?"

"Only when focusing on the morning break," She confessed. "Otherwise I was much like you--killing what keeps us alive."

"Is that so bad?"

"I wonder. Sometimes I still feel the bruises." She stated. "But I am told this is normal."

"What else did they tell you?"

"To quit worrying about not being built to scale," she stated in displeasure.

"...and?"

"For me to prepare to fall again for the apocalyptic things written in the sky," She admitted with a wicked smile.

"What's so funny?"

"I recognized your handwriting long ago," She uttered into the centrifuge.
~