#petunia
I moved it off the porch today,
where sun falls hard and wide.
The *** is cracked, the roots are weak.
Still, something waits inside.
The blooms were bruised, a weathered pink,
like lips that lost their say.
Still, one had cupped the morning rain
and hadn’t looked away.
My back cried out. I crouched and worked,
hard knuckles in the dirt.
I cut the dead, I turned the soil,
poured water where it hurt.
I set it by the cedar rail,
where shade and heat align.
Still stiff. Still sore. You’re gone. That holds.
It’s standing. So am I.
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 1:49 PM UTC
If I could weaponize peanut-butter
think of all the money I could make
selling it to the military
man O man, that would be great
Putting it in cannon rounds
bullets filled to brimming
missiles, rockets, satellites
wouldn't that be thrilling?
Just think it through Petunia
come too this understanding
every person alive and every building
still left standing
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 9:18 AM UTC
Funny...less that two weeks later how foreign this is.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXII)
Lo, ****** white tinged purple, for a sense
Of sorrows' keenest wailing, and so frail
To boot, lies now in state, as drying t'avail
The first petunia Joe gave me, what hence?
I wonder what the weekend shall from thence
Be, eh? He's sposed to call. Nor in betrayl
Does he know I'm a virgin? That detail
Waits chance to take its bow in sheer defense.
This white tank, pink-bowed floral skirt as twere
Ah, party clothes last summer when we'd brew
Espressos over beef, with wine to do
Our seance good in mid-July, was't poor
For groc'ry shopping? I forgot. His pure
Choice in a flowr--I can't help loving too.
30Jun17a
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Walking down the street
Wanting something to eat
See a homeless man
Sitting in the heat
I get sad for a second
Then the old man beckoned
Do you have any money
I smiled, not feeling threatened
I reach out my hand
Hit him with a bottle
Took his 3.50
And hit up McDonalds
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC