(April 23, 2019)


tides and time count the passage*

of sun through new leaves

*(Reclining in the now-sober hammock under the now-fully budded and leafed tree my napping eyes count passages of the Spring – but pretending Summer – sun through the limbs and leaves, the book marked and folded on a nearby high table and the last cold beer still sweating in its cooler-wrap though I know it’s past drained. I call that feeding the ‘skeeters.)

“Takes The ‘Whine’ Outta Outdoors”

(April 23, 2019)

bugbites hate sour grape*

some call jesus’ last sop

eases sunburn too

*(Any ol’e cheap white distilled vinegar not only takes the sting out of mosquito bites but also calms the tortured skin cells as they broast in the sun. For those of us who eschew noxious cream burn concoctions which do not sting – how can a sober man tell if he got sunburnt or skeeter-bit without a stinging sensation from a slather of ole sour grape juice…’sides the slight acidic tinge to the air counteracts wafting other fumes, too.)

“My Veggies Wanna Drink”

(April 23, 2019)

lug* water to veg

tomorrow’s likely hotter

still love a good sweat

*(Whenever possible I tote five-gallon buckets of roof-caught rainwater rather than firing up the pump out back or – worse – turning on the water meter out front and letting the city charge me theoretical “sewer” fees based on metered water flow. Plenty of buckets and large impromptu “cisterns” all properly shielded from mosquitoes, but the frogs say that’s unfair as they like a good skeeter sammich or seven billion. The container garden needs pretty regular soppings, as do the seedling beds. We got rain promised – bywhom? weddermans-n-mams? – Friday and maybe again Sunday. I shall drink beer and find a bucket j.i.c. – purely precautionary, mind.)