johnsonboy

Drunk

All kidding aside, my dear,
even more serious than usual
the wind is a song I knew once
but mislaid, here in the plot
surrounded by sacred stems,
by misbehaving bees.

I got a little pollen on my nose
& laughed about it all the way
back to the middle of the road.

My thoughts were pure poetry
& as such difficult
to evaluate for their
economic potential.

All I can do is lie giggling
next to the fence. Wild turkeys
meander in the ditch & make
a striking racket
out there in the underbrush.