those northerners
fence line
“Yes I am. It’s on my resumé,”
said my neighbour,
after he was told
he wasn’t
an asshole.
***
My fence even half not up
still tomorrow should
prove promise.
***
It’s good not to be a connoisseur of anything. It allows us to drink bad beer and wine, eat all the the extra parts of the animal, enjoy Jughead and Crumb, figure a fine is sometimes worth it, tell bad jokes, unpolitically correct or just in bad taste, share stories about birds, flying, laughing. . . those superior bastards.
Plus what would we do without sub standard music? Shite, we would all be listening to Brahms and Taylor Swift.
***
My boss likes to say, we ain’t building a piano. He doesn’t say it to me. He knows I haven’t seen a piano since keyboards. But for the other guys. . . those old fucks.
***
Storm clouds with nothing in them, neither rain or wind. Most go west to east and jump the mountains. It’s the northerners you have to worry about. They care little for geography, and will flatten a garden in a minute.
***
Exaggeration isn’t just bullshit.

Rude awakening.
Last light catches rain.
Lettuce, self seeded, beside the compost.
A few early black cherry tomatoes.
A pterodactyl or blue heron, one or the other, flies into the storm.
Wild Orchid
The first cub is waisting no time getting hid.
A small swallow enjoying the evening light.
Willow sporting her new haircut.
Cooper and Willow wrestling over a stick.
Willow trying to talk me into a late night fetch.
A wild turkey. Too late for Easter and too early for Thanksgiving!
Wild flower. Venus’s Lady’s Slipper Orchid.
Cooper and Scarlett hang loose.