The Greatest Puppet Show on Earth

It’s not scaring some crows
Chest bursting hay overstuffed
With corncob pipe gorilla glued to mouth
And wicker stray sun hat shielding
Stone eyes drooping from gravity
Above spineless flaccid neck
Duct-tapped to habit
Fastened to half a severed telephone pole

Bleached to the very straw from sun
Whitewashing chest & wrist hairs
Standing guard to another autumnal harvest
Upright, an endless stolid sentry
Weathered, crop-dusted, surveyed, speculated
Quiet spectacle to fly buzz,
Mosquitoes swirling hover sounds,
–As well as seemingly undetected
Electronic bugs observing the growing rows

and electronic bugs, & electronic bugs

Prelude to The Haymaker

Lightning flash shoves cloud
Swirling wind scythes foam, sea roars
Thunder booms kick start

 

The Human Drive

I’ll sit & watch…
The smooth gentle sway
Of dune grass ruffled wind
Feel old fear
Melt through waves
—Warming blood & skin

I sense the ocean calling here
That conscience sound within
A love that seldom seems to fly
When driven to just live