the value of x

september's passage the value of 'x' is imaginary
friday the 13th walmart out of lucky charms
common buckeye the eerie stillness of a summer sidewalk
humming refrigerator to the tune of something's broken

dust motes night offers the prospect of invisibility
rock bluff clouds removing the gold from your face
exit sign the door is another window of opportunity
train station fly briefly landing on the conductor's hat

shadows of butterflies I remember mom and dad's anniversary

hot tears the past seeps into the present

early september the yellow rustle of old paper and faded cornstalks

over it over you over your head over the rainbow somewhere

tornado sirens every motion and emotion in the roiling sky

marooned by flash floods it's just me and the rain

daybreak the cedar siding battered by a woodpecker

Echoes Of Things I Never Said

crumbling paint with only a fraction of summer left

anonymous claims I don't know him

money gone "see how they run..."*

*line from Beatles, "Lady Madonna"

afternoon coolness meandering through a daydream

head made of blocks and other concrete forms of denial

wall talk I hear the echoes of things I never said

house wren changing sides as if this were her argument

tree face the bark has an edge to it

trash day my final warning from publisher's clearing house

T-shirt philosophy:

If you didn't earn it, you don't deserve it.
Work for want you want instead of wishing for it.