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I'm all too conscious of the change,
nothing strange, and nothing never felt before
not a shock,
perhaps the clicking of a lock
the subtle closing of a door,
a key has turned,
that well worn latch is dropped once more,
on what is done, a green and fertile time,
I hear the chimes,
which ring and sing a tune I know full well,
a tolling bell
for autumn
The title just means welcome in my local language
Off to the zoo,
to watch the otters and to cleanse my soul,
the world has churned me,
flattened and burned me
to be quite honest, it’s left a hole,
a couple of hours with whiskery faces
might put a smile in all the right places
Before I leave the house I always check to make sure :

-i’ve got my wallet
-my phone
-my keys
-make sure my fly is up
-make sure to put on the mask I wear to cover my anguish and despair
It is time to write again
                to let the pen flow
as the breeze comes through
      my open window...

Thoughts arise like buds
                    strewn across the
               the open mind,
  
                  then when left agape  

they scatter like wild flowers
          before settling
        on my nape....
The Bees are gone and the butterflies are dying off.
Polar bears climb deadly cliffs to find birds eggs to eat.
Sea birds drown in coats of oil slick on the ocean.
And we sit watching on TV, munching on Doritos
While the news predicts the next tornado’s flash flood
And Canada plus the West Coast are in flames.

What the Hell is wrong with us- have we fried our brains
with TikTok memes and face Book.
Why aren’t we on charter busses aimed
At D.C. and state legislatures to demand
They think of us for once and not the gravy train
They ride collecting re-election funds.

Why do we mindlessly vote straight ticket
Instead of vetting each candidate for
What they’ve done to help the earth.
Then voting out the wastrels.

I know where to rent a bus
Will anybody ride with me.
ljm
Gotta yell once in a while
don’t kiss and tell,

meaning
do kiss, go crazy, let passion rule, give in, take out,
meaning

kiss but don’t tell

yet,
the real telling is in the kissing
where your heart gives way,
avalanches into frenzied chain of signal fires,
smoked, clouded eyes, with only one exception made;

the shining, sheer veil see-through when
the other is on the room and the  green spring coverlet felled,
all to see the glow, see all the the blush,
the pretense, aversion skins natural makeup, a liberty beacon

laughing, how it cannot be hid for what’s inside
climbs so fast, blushes blue blood redder, the inside reaction reagent,
the weakening composure, the intense beating from heart to head,
the joyous tearing, the silent swearing, the stupid grinning,
the step skipping, the happy dance springing  spontaneous,
no control, might as well just let it go biology in chemistry class

all these tells that you have kissed beyond reason,
these hidden kisses might as well be on
billboards on the highway into town,
a P.A. announcement in high school,
a hearty button attached to your backpack,
the incessant text checking, all dogs nighttime barking all day

go ahead kiss and tell
go ahead tell and kiss harder,
in the kisses, a million tellings
every body part red swelling,
the tearing of every body part,
concentric circles extended from a pebbled heart

~
9:01am wed Apr 24

P.S. another way of knowing
is the signaling typology of the hugging variety,
which if the hugs maitresse don’t do it herself,
soon enough, I’ll just do myself,
cause how you hug is more than
merely everything, it two comets crashing,
smithereens becoming a new galaxy...
the spring mantra arrives with distinctive citified sparkles

a family of ducklings splash, mimicking young children,
shaking, spraying, squeaking, babies bath bathing,
jumping in and out of a fountain pool
of a tall-storied Manhattan apartment building,
the mother-leader attends them well for she recalls
the untimely end of the babies of last year,
lost to wanderlust on York Avenue,
cars and taxis as instruments of mass murdering,
but new spring is the season of new birth

the Cercis Siliquastrum tree trunk (!) oddly sprouts
unusual pink flowers
well before it’s branches grow up into a fully blossoming tree,
a signed spring time ritual, but since it is a/k/a, the Judas Tree,
we wonder if spring hints of Cerci Lannister’s fate betrayed,
in this, her final May dance, oh, which Judas brother/lover
will bring us a winter fin finale

the temperature control dial busted, the variability too wide,
the youngers are skipping the interregnum season,
going direct to elect shorts and T-shirt, while those who no longer bloom in the semi-warm, recall the wet chill of past evenings,
voting to dress defensively, wearing their aging skepticism
aware that all changes are exact crossing line-defined, wrapped in
medium weight coats, concealing embarrassing gloves in pocket,
decorative silk scarfs for non-decorative purposed,
all betting the under/over the spring is here all-in not yet sighted

the streets are busy, the momentary pleasantries
of warm sky and sun push the apartment dwellers out,
a magnetic force pulls us to the outside to exhale, in order to inhale,
guises manufactured excuses appear, a loaf of bread, a latte necessity,
the children desert happily their wintery confinement,
by pushing their own carriages, containing in their stead,
their lilting accented nannies, excited by their version of spring break

Me? toy shopping for this month brings rashers of birthdays,
more May galorey, singing come Dancer and Prancer, Ian and Isabel, Alex and not-a-baby anymore Wendy, and because the weather so pleasant, cautions ignored, the credit card swiped repeatedly, frequently and joyously, xmas reimagined, another May time ritual, rooted in the September month of *******, of staying warm, staving off winter *******, and winter planting for spring harvesting

children score grand-multiplicities for god made in his place
grand parental substitutes, each with two hands each equal,
so both must be filled with maypole ribbon, brightly colored
toy bags, presents wrapped in paper unicorns and all manner of
sporting *****, as we turn 2 and 6, 7 and who ate 8?

all that my eyes did see when we surfed strolled the streets,
vignettes fell like the spring rains, they, now, from daytime banished,
to after-midnight to do their breast feeding of tulips and weeds,
letting little children grow up snuggling in still over-heated rooms,
naked legs kicking off winter blankety snow remnants while dreaming of springing onwards and forward
into the party of life by inhaling nature’s

nature.
5-3-19  606pm
she smells (nameless and shameless)


a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless

morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-a-little-closer-tasting for the summer solstice,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded

the first of the season red spot-stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are mostly gender identifiable

my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within, a ****** hallelujah,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt Nile of the basement waters

the burnt crumbs of illegal in-bed brioche toast
amazingly invisible on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed, was yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things (popcorn pieces)
is just a scratchiest fragrance too far,
needing a sheet wiped clean slate

even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
one of us makes a (vice) presidential declaration:

she smells, I man-ually stink, each,
each glower shower nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass aroma fresh cut,
to exhume and then send away
this odor now christened,


nameless and shameless


11:47 28/4/19
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