An Afternoon 1970

sitting on the porch

air is humid, heat beats me dormant and I want to sleep

my bare feet propped on the railing

I am smoking Camels lit with wooden matches

flail butts to the ground like butterfly cocoons

cored with stain

a Procol Harum record plays

frays my head in time

through my muse I hear cries of smallish children

laughter and shouts from the backyard, mutts barking

my goat is standing on the hood of the Suburban

a mountain beast all ableat

hens crackle in the driveway and wander the dusty road

shooed by cars traveling slow from the nothing

town south to the nothing town north.

some folks sit down next to me

fuck this I say

I go inside and measure out brown rice

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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