Scrooging on Summer (A July Tale)

Summer is lost on me
with its long
laborious days
of horrid heat
and getting hotter
Whatever isn’t
drowns in torrents of
warm water vomited from
dark angry skies and
were it not for fresh
corn tomatoes honey
and cucumbers
I would gladly
leave it behind
Damn its scathing
hot eye
peeling my skin
My clothes never dry
The grey catbird that
frequents my deck rail
Loudly crying like a
wet diapered child
for Fall to come
and change this
soggy swaddle

At The Edge of the World

Massive headstone of
Norwegian Blue Pearl
standing alone at the
edge of the world
no name no
span of years
no mourners gathered
to shed a tear
just a worn battle axe
angled carefully
on the grass
What soul this
that rests upon
this precipice
the end of
man’s days?


Nature is privately owned
Can’t go to the river
where I used to go to
be with the stones
It’s posted
If I pay
I can stroll
a National Forest
with all the other
landless folk
engulfed by humans again
That which none could
ever own
bought and sold
No escape
It’s on the bill of sale
Stay away!