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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
| Real men don't pick rose hips they would and they could as you know by know Neanderthal that we would resort to anything could name call or meet violence at the last possible moment cornered and then you will see what a real man does not to generalize as i grasp each tall branch growing skyward toward my roof eaves, pull down pluck the orangest or pinkest hued bulbs smooth oval green butts brown -- kisses brittle, crumble in leather hands or through, where no preying neighborhood rodent has seen. because who would scale a twenty-foot tower of thorns but me, in my swim trunks, truly going commando, barefoot on a lush lawn, beneath shade of maple and crab tree. up a ladder to tip top. come inside, as i shuck them, boil into tea. have a cup with me. or keep sipping your flask of arsenic, rodent. that's fine you'll see. 8.18.23 working on. came to me while doing this. research, find out where seeds from whatever climbing rose bush this is come from. the rose hip? the tea thing will be? wondering if i've employed a split infinitive? hunting for that great white whale. probably in plain sight somewhere around here. moby i planted the bush shortly after we moved into this house. It nearly covers half the siding. I can't let anything go to waste. The rose hips now have caught my imagination. also, i hate men who act macho, manly, aggressive when they narrow-mindly cannot see that is only one aspect of what makes us true men. i was stereotyped in both classes. confused by people who wanted to sort and classify in me in one group or another. i now play tag and flashlight tag with a two-year old, fluffy black cat named Onyx. I want my family to take a video. He starts the game every night as I prepare for bed. we take turns running to and from, up, down and around our split level home. I'm careful not to step on him. My reflexes are slightly better.  i truly enjoy connection to an arriving poem. i just can't fully deliver on statement with prose, lyrical, alliterate and the poetic devices employed, undisciplined, absence of truest aim to express with heaved arrow narrowly misses, hoping to connect with others who might read, relate. or not. i accept adversaries as well, as friends. it is all good. no harm can be done with civil discourse. some understand people who don't get what that is. |
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