Life among the Prickly Pear

Thought I had been outwitted by “reblog” but a quick post to Robert Okajii on his recipt for prickly pear with onion (and a lime squirt) fry does the whole affair nicely. Why the comment to this wonderful site allowed me the reblog a mystery still. Enjoy some Florida cactus fresh and not have to buy jarred in the “Spanish” section at the box along the highway.

O at the Edges

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Life among the Prickly Pear

Rain’s twofold curse: not enough
too much. Still, I take comfort

even among the thorns.
There is much to like here.

Its moonlight flowers.
Paddles fried with minced garlic.

Wren’s jubilant shriek.
The fruit’s red nectar.

I wake to distant screech owls
purring their desires on separate

slopes. Late spring, storms looming.
I close my eyes and the creek rises.

* * *

A draft of this first appeared here in June 2015, and I posted this version in May 2016. I’ve had to deal with a flooded creek recently…

In the meantime, two of my guitar heroes:

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“Looking Past Just Me”

(May 30, 2019)

every time i look

past just me i see all them

might come to be*

*(Yeah, I know: violates the rhyme-rule. So? Not like it’s my first rule-flout – or flaunt! I ended the Facebook auto-post with something like: In just-june when a young man’s fancy turns to rules and rhymes and I soberly recall I am not alone. Or, something like that.)

“Eeew! Stop This Feces!”

(May 29, 2019)

used to be peons

now we all are called pee-ons

and most shake the drips*

*(Definitely NOT a golden shower story – which, by the way, the media, including talk-media, got and keeps getting it all wrong: a lady of the evening (or two) hopping atop a mattress and micturating does not a Golden Shower make: must be a recipient of such outfall below to qualify. Even venerable Rush Limbaugh goes along with the Demo-Gag. Even I, but a casual just-past teen consumer of literary porn – Candy by Terry Southern, et al – got the low-down decades ago. Did have a Parris Island first aid instructor during Marine Corps boot camp who suggested the help pee on the poor “sum’bitch” what got his guts all hanging out. “’cause, you know, you only got so much water and you gonna need it. ‘Sides, infection can be treated: dead can’t.” So, people, please to aim and if you see me sleepin ‘twixt some curb and a dis-used road some early morning, pee on me and see.)