summer – other animals

New ebook!

Well, e-chapbook, really. I’ve been working very hard on this little collection of a dozen sonnets and I’m glad to say that they’re finally ready.

Here’s a sample. Enjoy!

we ran out of gas before we got there
metaphorically of course the car was
just an ancient generation’s notion
of freedom or some such so later when

we seemed to be writing a story for
the new employer on the optimal
monetization of the eternal
memes (to avoid the friends convenience made—
their brotips and conversations like photos
of completely uncluttered interiors)

we made a slow-motion escape attempt
but were swallowed by the slothy summer

and rose at noon to find the cicadas
gleefully gone on their fatal picnic

Check out my books page if you want to see more.

the light when summer’s gone
say her name
don’t

(First published in Modern Haiku 53:1.)

I sit and watch the trees
in summer’s sticky green
the cicada hum then
stop suddenly the dog
sighs everything a bit
slow and tired is there some
light from this I really
don’t know but my hands this
evening ached for a prayer

something wants to burst but changes direction with every dollar store bass note from cars speeding past the red white and black opossum stinking the praised summer sun

despite what Sumerian summer sunsets this dream

a day in summer like the rest you never take

shadows in the carpet little skulls of summer

in the forest where they planned that nasty surprise tiny flowers try to take over the world fish look surprised and sure he was never one to

and what could we do but invite him if we were going to the summer house as you waited with the light straight down from the clouds in planks and the ducks looking like they’ve lived through worse though

the party that night with everyone still feeling a bit raw from the afternoon staring into their drinks waiting for someone to mention going to bed so we could say oh yes what a good idea me too

for which the system of blood tunnels valves and such was built though it does get loud on a summer evening after a few

another summer gone
the worms
we don’t outrun