A post hole digger
at best
at best some irises ,
at best
the wind making waves in the grass
at the very least
death
making waves in time
there could be no other way
there could be no other way
type it out each time
type it twice
No more whiskey of the mind.
See the grass between the toes?
See the cloud?
That’s Wordsworth’s cloud.
That’s Whitman’s grass.
Yours truly
An obscure poet in an anonymous place
singing songs of grass and clouds.
Rattle your chains.
Bang the pots and pans and slam the cabinet doors.
Rattle your chains
Pick at the lock
Do not go
quietly below the clouds and grass
david michael jackson