I roam on an alley in stillness
My heels barely scratching the ground
As I recall your mouth sampling
Camembert and tang of pickles,
And weekends thereafter, same same
Dose of appetizers; laughter dripping
From your replayed stories...the taste
of cocktails, your skin just as intense.
Like so, spring arrives with the madness
of fleeting twilight....your dulcet breath
vicious and abrupt that my heart asks
for owned affection,for gentle walks
in the park: From a mantle of stars
my hands quiver from aloneness--
because there is no longer an ardor
transporting us to unlimited fermented dips;
The flavor of cheese and pickled cucumber
turns into vinegar-- rancid, sour, ferocious:
Yet, in finely-spun of mornings, I miss the chase.
Abundant finger food
Attractively garnished
Appealing to look at.
A pleasant aroma
And authentic flavors.
Appetizingly good
And nibbled with cocktails.
appetizers are not uncomplimentary
they are food for gods and primitive man.
The ape is the apex as
Blood and Oranges are exceptionally
eulogistic pleasing to the soul
Down, down, down into the darkness of memory,
Gently they go - the panegyrical, the praiseful, boastful mammal…
Pay attention to the me, in I, not the We in thy?
the human soul is the most warm thought of all.
HOW near god is such a thing,
To get me wondering if death is lukewarm, or a mutual reality.
How happy is the ape a prime mate of man!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the soul,
Gently it goes - the littler, the diminutive, nothing at all.
Nothing escapes this divinity
Or overturns this reality…
APPETIZERS
It licks it's raspy way across the land,
and peeks around and drools at our abode.
A plume of ash to blacken every man,
and leaves our children standing in the road.
Devours hot crackling sounds in baby's ear,
with lullaby of death, it encroaches.
It swallows cozy shelter, dock, and pier,
drying up our lake as it approaches.
Then feasting on all creatures great and small,
it spits out raw bones, or glass, and metal.
No blaze can chew on such metallic squall,
nor munch the bones of Grimm's, bravest Gretel.
A ravenous and lively old fire beast,
pops us down as hors d'œuvres for the feast.
By Edlynn Nau
© October 14, 2017
Dedication to the people of the 17 California Fires: with special love to Mendocino County, Lake County, Napa County, Sonoma County, & Santa Rosa.
Written by Gail DeBole on May 9, 2017
Updated on October 6, 2022
Max the chimp was in awe of his find.
A termite meal that boggled his mind.
Thousands trapped in the hill
He took care not to spill
And did not leave one termite behind.
This time there were extra to share
With his girlfriend whose name was Clare.
Thousands trapped in the hill
They took care not to spill
And did not leave one termite behind.
The sherbet orange light of a fall morning in Connecticut crackles with the scent pine. The lake’s parking lot overflows by nine thirty. The S.U.V.s park in a haphazard manor. The boat crew’s flight from reality – or the emersion in it—began in earnest hours ago. Neon-colored, plastic, kayaks adorn the grass skirt before the water’s edge. Dressed in shades as lively as their hulls, the small craft owners match themselves up with their water-horses. They shove off at random intervals.
geese
land and take off –
squirrels scamper
Disturbed, Lake Lillinonah ripples with the dip of paddle and the morning breeze. The cotton wood trees chatter to passing egrets. The smell of powerboats, only slightly mars the bathing-beauty glow of the day. Days end will find a conga line of cars pulling in to a local dairy for homemade ice-cream. Truly, God is in his heaven and all is right – at least here, for these few hours—in the world.
pink tipped tongues
lick sprinkles from the cone:
eyes roll