Yassy – yaskhan says so much so well

Inspired by Allen Ginsberg’s poem ‘An Eastern Ballad’ The future allures me with a fresh promise Senses enthrall a pulsating divine polish Enchanting heartbeat with passion’s depth Fuelling my fire with sauvignon breath. The prophecy of love’s promise goes bold Like album of verses bound in gold Everyone dreams of love they hope to find […]

via a promise — yaskhan

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The first of three islands on The Last Menu for America last century: and, now, the images of what comes over the top of that world brings back images of that silent, strange yet so familiar world. Bruce Jewett’s fine lines bring to me other imaginings and more – and from him that is not so unusual.

kyushu’s regiments
cut to the same height
ranks of tall pines

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“Sweet Potato Droolin'”

Filled two more big pots*

with more sweet potato vines:

November drooling!

 

  • (It started with one 55-gallon compost – converted trash can – big with one big sweet potato uneaten and just-discovered early Spring.  That series of vines soon claimed ownership – with a few shovelsful of more compost – into two 30-gallon unused pots. And, yes, I copped a couple of top-can pop-ups nice and fresh and golden yellow back in early July, and have regularly added vine leaves to salads and steamed some as vegetables, but just a few days ago I noticed all those vines trailing down off the original pot and I did happen to have two more 30-gallon empty pots and extra soil and compost and I just feel so bad for the Turkey what with all that competition coming late Fall.  Pie, souffle, baked with butter and dark grade B maple syrup, and, yes, fried and even this time tostoned – a la plantain.)