ponded

the canal has been left to dry
mud faces towards heaven on high
fish friends left again
river mode waves erode
a bank of stones
seeping homes
a snail must roam

oaks and others

old leaves
feeling the wind
hide the sun behind
a rain shower curtain
some of them twist and beg off
to become the ground again
as much a future tree
as a leaf we see

the fox

the fox went out
in the middle of the day
and swam to the middle
a big tail to float on
over to the next island
head above water
swim fox swim faster

last ditch

the last ditch
was a first ditch to someone
else, else
                 its a                        digit
                          first and last

confirmations

your flight will be make it
but
your baggage will be filled
with snakes
if you land in texas
or with minks
if you land in nfld

your popcorn wont pop

if you dont let it
or set it and forget it
remember to elect yet
another marionette

contradictions

orange juice
more yellow
than a carrot
in style

a stick
log in size
more slippery
than a shadow
in fog

a vision
more divisive
than apparitions
of immigrant lives

solid ice
less dense
than snow in july

what goes up must come down

what goes up must come down
from way up north to south
when the wind sounds wet
the dropped solar collect
calls telling them fall
what goes on must come off

ham instead

the menu
was written in the dark
in the dark where backs got turned
on tradition
on our principles
our shared principles of hate of the turkey
and love oven
where turkey bastes in his own juices
the ritual sacrifice

we leave that today
and have some bastard food
some sort of inhuman tofu
or even worst, some pariah of the farm
the pig
or the ham

why, I axe not a horse?
you would die of course

turkey in the straw

turkey in the hay
hey turkey
go away

no wait pleas stay
we want to eat you today

hat equations

the temperature
between the shoulders
conducts up a neck
and to a, what can be approximated as,
sphere of influence
confluence of vessels, surfaces,
bessel functions to trestle
the hat on top
an additional layer of contemplation
that I shouldn't have even start

second hands

the watch was stopped
not dead more dormant
a la cou grennouille
stacked in a mud
grave for a winter long
lung stuffed left on

This the time I left
it idled in state
waited perfect for the
time to wind away

and its must a minute
but its off

cou grenouille

the frogs neck
extends from his crack to his
hat
a fat faced plaqued onto a
green back