average fella…

semolina from the heartland

what could be wind or just
6 billion voices condensed
into a breeze swept into
town this morning along with
the sun barely making any effort
to warm the planet on a string.
poets croon about dead trees,
forgetting it’s still summer,
time of growth. i can’t blame
them; they like the metaphor
too much ever to say no. (i
feel much the same about Semolina’s
close cousin.)

i had a minute or two free to
pick off almost healed-scabs
from when i had to prove
a razor was sharp as needed.
now i can breathe into this
morning & see wheat waving
to nobody in particular.

the penny arcade summer made to
last longer in these parts.
thorton & keen at the local joint
telling jokes & singing songs for
the price of a nickel steak,
little white pedro & his friends
on the radio playing games,
typical summer fare. the durum
seeds were planted way back &
we’re two months from harvest.
all of our worries boil down to
phosphorous deficiency. easy
solution to that.

——————————————

You’re welcome Doc. Not that it makes a difference (with nothing lost & all) but I have a really good excuse for disappearing. Damn. I forgot it; I got a mind for shite lately.

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3 Responses to “average fella…”

  1. it’s all cool. i can smell the summer from here….

  2. Here is a link…

    I adore this blog and every thing about it. I have been reading it for awhile but have yet to say hello. well…Hello!…

  3. Summer in any form, shape, taste, scent is happily accepted by me!

    I hope everything is alright at your end! Congratulations …

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