Pensée Unique

Stray thoughts tucked
neat and tidy inside
a virtuous bandwagon, loose
ends tied in a curly ribbon
of Pandora's hair, shiny,
spiral from open scissors.

Black-and-white paper
wrapped edges, holy
hospital corners, folded tight,
Scotch-taped to prevent gray
uncertainty and doubt.

Tagged with the devout
label "Whosoever", in a bevy
of name-calling and flag-waving,
they take the bait,
obliged to reciprocate
the oversimplified gift-pack,
bivouac of propaganda.



willow, 2010


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a little secret

Pssst. Hey, I'll let you in on a little secret. This is the best salmon ever. It's the perfect subtle mix of flavors. I swear, it tastes like something you would eat in a fine restaurant, and it's super simple to make. Here's all you do:

Mix equal amounts of chili powder and brown sugar in a dish. Dredge raw salmon fillets in the mixture. In a bit of oil in a hot skillet on the stove top, caramelize each side about one minute. Remove to a baking sheet and pop in a 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes, or until cooked through. That's it. Easy peasy.

Many thanks to my friend Susan at 29 Black Street for this fabulous recipe. I've been making it nearly every week this summer at the manor. Everybody loves it. I promise, you will, too.

study of a dead bird

click to enlarge

This handsome woodpecker lost his bearings

and crashed into the French doors at the manor this afternoon.

Skylines tug him apart, winds drink him,

Earth itself unravels him from beneath --

His submission is flawless.

Blueflies lift off his beauty.

Beetles and ants officiate.

Pestering him with instructions.

His patience grows only more vast.

His eyes darken bolder in their vigil

as the chapel crumbles.

His spine survives its religion,

The tests moulder --

The quaint courtly language

of wingbones and talons.

And already

Nothing remains of the warrior but his weapons

And his gaze.

Blades, shafts, unstrung bows -- and the skull's beauty

Wrapped in the rags of his banner.

He is himself his banner and its rags.

While hour by hour the sun

Deepens its revelation.

from The Knight

by Ted Hughes

creepiest willow

Martin Scorsese says The Innocents, 1961, is one of top 11 scariest horror films of all time. It's based on the novella The Turn of the Screw by Henry James. Directed and produced by Jack Clayton, it stars Deborah Kerr, Michael Redgrave and Megs Jenkins. It did not do well at the box office at the time, but since then, critics call it one of the best psychological thrillers ever made, and it has received much praise and even cult status over the years. The dark, atmospheric film uses lighting, music, and direction for its effect rather than gore and shock factor.

So, why am I posting on this particular movie? Because it features one of the creepiest willow songs ever. "O Willow Waly", written by Georges Auric and Paul Dehn and sung on the soundtrack by Isla Cameron, was released in the UK following the film, on a Decca single in March, 1962. Simple and chilling, it's one of those earworms that haunts you for days afterwards.

If you're wondering what in the world "waly" means, I had to look it up, as well.

Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

(interj.) An exclamation of grief.

We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow.

But now alone I lie and weep beside the tree.

Singing "Oh willow waly" by the tree that weeps with me.

Singing "Oh willow waly" till my lover return to me.

We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow.

A broken heart have I. Oh willow I die, oh willow I die.

a special cuppa

Coffee in styrofoam is against my religion.

Betsy Cañas Garmon

my sprigware cup and saucer

It's not my imagination. Coffee and tea actually do taste better when sipped from something lovely. A few years ago, I switched from coffee to tea, and contrary to my preconceived notion, it didn't kill me. My bits of insomnia are now nearly non-existent, but I do sorely miss my java. I had to celebrate this weekend and have a nice strong cuppa, with real cream, in my pretty new vintage cup! My dear friends, Kary and Teddy, sent it to me, as part of her one year blogoversary celebration giveaway over at My Farmhouse Kitchen. Pop over and pay her a visit. Tell them Willow sent you. Grab a wonderful recipe or two, while you're there.

sprigware collection
from Country Living

Isn't it just too charming? Kary tells me its called "sprigware", I term I was unfamiliar with, so naturally, I headed to Google. I didn't find much on the subject, but I did learn that much china in early America was imported from Great Britain. "Sprigging" is a technique used in the manufacture of pottery, where ornaments are moulded or stamped separately, and then attached, or "sprigged" to the body of the piece with slip. Sprigging was used extensivley in Staffordshire. From what I can tell this lovely little sprigware cup and saucer dates from the mid-1800's.

That cup of coffee was extra heavenly. My will power remained intact, and I just had one cup. Kary was kind enough to tuck in a few packages of Starbucks delicious madeleines as an added treat. She must have picked up on the wavelength of my goal to make the best madeleines in the Midwest. I have a delicious new recipe for madeleines from Margaret, and her beautiful blog, The Earthly Paradise. Now all I need is the pan. So, stay tuned.

when you're gone

I light a cigarette without a match,

snap a picture without a flash,

sling some mud without the trash,

catchphrase without a catch.

I eat bangers without mash,

smear mascara without a lash,

lone pirate without a patch,

party late without the grass.

I play poker without cash,

plate up breakfast without hash,

watch eggs that never hatch,

feel the itch without a scratch.

I taste passion without pash,

raise the window without a sash,

bumper car without a crash,

hundred yards without the dash.

Swan dive, without a splash.

willow, 2010

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pez-a-mania

I heard a piece on NPR about all the collectors flocking to the PEZ-a-mania Collector Convention in Cleveland this week. Who knew such a big deal would be made over these little candy dispensers? The name Pez was derived from the letters at the start, the middle and the end of the German word for peppermint, Pfefferminz, the first Pez flavor. Apparently, it was first sold in Vienna, Austria in 1927 as an adult breath mint, marketed as an alternative to smoking. The first Pez dispensers were similar in shape to a cigarette lighter.

In 1955, the Pez company placed heads on the dispensers and marketed them for children. Santa Claus and Mickey Mouse were among the first character dispensers. Since then, over 1500 different Pez dispensers, including the original character dispensers have been created.

Many of these plastic vintage dispensers go for hundreds and thousands of dollars, the most valuable being pre-1985. The highest verifiable sale of Pez dispenser was a private sale of a Mickey Mouse softhead at $7000 between an Austrian dealer and a California collector. The high prices which some Pez items fetch has led to the manufacturing of fake Pez items. A clear 50s space gun sold for $11,000 on eBay in 2006, but according to noted Pez author, David Welch, the dispenser was later proven by chemical testing to be a well-made fake.

Our kids had lots of Pez dispensers before '85, but I never considered them of any worth. I wonder if any are packed away in their old toy boxes? If you don't hear from me for a few days, I'll be in the cellar digging for Pez.

from children to Nazis

I watched Austrian filmmaker, Michael Haneke's, The White Ribbon, 2009, this week and it's been haunting me for days. In fact, I think I might just have to watch it again, before I mail it back to Netflix. It's the account of a series of mysterious bits of sabotage, in a rural village in northern Germany in 1913, each directed at three powerful community leaders, the doctor, the baron, and the pastor. Though subtle, this film packs a serious punch. Details are deliberately left unanswered, which makes it eerily unsettling.

The movie was filmed in luminous black and white 1080p high definition, which very effectively lends to the psychological darkness of the film. It also has the feel of a classic film, without losing the brilliant range of blacks to gray scale, and pops with crisp chiaroscuro.

Although neither Nazism or Fascism is mentioned, the film gives much insight into their origins through the religious extremism and political terrorism which reigns rampant in this rural community. It's interesting to note the village pastor ties white ribbons on the arms of his children, as a form of punishment, and to remind them of righteous living, yet there is something very evil happening under the guise of purity. Historically, this same core group, 20 years later, turns to National Socialism, and takes on the black ribbon as the symbol of totalitarianism.

This movie has an evocative, chilling Ingmar Bergman feel to it. Don't look for a happy ending here. It's deep, intelligent and troubling. Add it to your queue and tell me if you don't end up thinking about it for days...or maybe even weeks.

The White Ribbon won the Palme d'Or for best film, and at the 67th Golden Globe Awards the film won the Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Language Film.

the plight of the pig

Diving Pig by Michael Sowa

Dogs look up to man. Cats look down to man.

Pigs look us straight in the eye and see an equal.

Winston Churchill

Let's face it, the poor pig really does get a bad rap. Quite unfairly, pigs have become synonymous with all kinds of negative attributes, especially greed, gluttony, and uncleanliness.

This isn't a new thing. In Judaism and Islam, pigs are the epitome of unclean and inedible animals, the animal that is central to the concepts of treif and haram. Philo of Alexandria, a first century Jewish writer, pronounces pigs lazy scavengers, the embodiment of vice. The prohibition against eating pigs in the Ancient Middle East may have stemmed from the fact that pigs were the only animals that competed with humans for the same food stuff, since cows and sheep ate grass. It was likely a socio-political move into practicality through the ancient religious leaders of the two faiths in order to maintain the food supplies for the region.

In ancient Egypt, pigs were associated with Set, the rival to the sun god Horus. When Set fell into disfavor with the Egyptians, swineherds were forbidden to enter temples. According to Herodotus, swineherds were even a kind of separate sect or caste, which only married among themselves.

my great-great-grandfather,
Palestine Hanna and his pig

Taking it a step further, the nasty attributes ascribed to pigs have often led to critical comparisons between pigs and humans. There are tons of idioms that refer to the negative qualities traditionally ascribed to pigs. They are commonly associated with greed in various forms. Pigs are also associated with dirtiness, probably related to their habit of wallowing in mud. Even the untidy little Peanuts character was called Pig-Pen. How many times have you heard someone called "swine"?

Here are just a few piggy idioms I came up with:

• Eat like a pig
• Pig out
• Sweat like a pig
• Bleed like a pig
• Squeal like a pig
• Greedy as a pig
• Road hog
• You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig
• When pigs fly
• It's plain as a pig on a sofa
• Clumsy as a hog on ice
• Content as a dead pig in the sunshine
• Wild as a peach-orchard hog
• Too many pigs. Not enough tits. (Abraham Lincoln)
• Buy a pig in a poke
• In a pig's eye
• Slicker than a greased pig
• Make a silk purse out of a sow's ear
• Don't cast your pearls before the swine
• Pig's arse (Australian, expressing disbelief)
• On the pig's back (Irish, signifying living easy)

A few interesting little bits of pig folklore:

• In European folklore, there is a widespread belief that pigs are intensely frightened by mirrors.
• In many European countries, a feast has formed around slaughtering a pig.
• In Germany, pigs are known as a symbol for good luck. Marzipan pigs are a popular confectionery, especially as a gift on New Year's Eve.
• In 1880's New York, a tradition developed of sharing a peppermint-flavored, hard candy pig with one's family after Christmas Dinner, with the hope that it would bring health and prosperity throughout the next year.
• Fishermen in North East England regarded pigs as harbingers of bad luck. Pigs would not be carried on boats: a fisherman seeing a pig on his way to work would turn round and go home. This even extended to a prohibition of the word "pig" on board a vessel. This is why the animals were referred to, across the North East, as "gissies".

All this to say, cut the piggies some slack. They're not such a bad animal. Actually, they are quite intelligent. Research was done with pigs in the 1990s. One of the experiments was to train the pigs to move the cursor on a video screen with their snouts. When the pigs used the cursors again, they were able to distinguish between scribbles they already knew, and scribbles they were seeing for the first time. The pigs learned this skill as fast as the chimpanzees.

All species of pig are smarter than dogs, and capable of abstract representation. “They can hold an icon in their mind, and remember it at a later date,” says Professor Stanley Curtis of Penn State University, who discovered that pigs dominate at video games with joy sticks. Curtis goes on to say, “Pigs are able to focus with an intensity I have never seen in a chimp.” The studies also showed:

• Pigs lead complex social lives that behaviorists once believed to be true only of primates.
• Mother pigs sing to their piglets while they are nursing.
• They excel at video games that would be hard for a young child, and sometimes better than the primates.
• Pigs dream.
• Pigs have a good sense of direction, and can find their way home from long distances.

So, next time someone calls you a pig, feel free to take it as a compliment.

shakes just like a willow tree

Now, for a completely different willow song from last week's offering in my Summer Wicked Willowy Song Series. "The Girl I Love She Got Long Black Wavy Hair", also known as "The Girl I Love", is a song performed by English rock band Led Zeppelin. It was recorded by the BBC on June 16, 1969 for Chris Grant's Tasty Pop Sundae show during the band's U.K. Tour of Summer 1969, being broadcast on June 22, 1969. The song eventually found its way onto the Led Zeppelin album BBC Sessions, released in 1997. This is the only known performance of the song by the band, as no other audio document has been unearthed of it being performed live at Led Zeppelin concerts.

The guitar riff played by Jimmy Page that drives this song is similar to Bobby Parker's 1961 song "Watch Your Step" which charted in the US and the UK. It is also very similar to that played by Page on the later Led Zeppelin track "Moby Dick", released in October 1969 on the album Led Zeppelin II.

It's interesting to note the lyrics in the first verse are a variation on the1929 blues song "The Girl I Love She Got Long Curly Hair" by Sleepy John Estes. The lyrics in the rest of the song are paraphrases of various blues songs or themes.

Whoah, the girl I love, she got long black wavy hair

I do declare!

The girl I love, yeah, she got long black wavy hair,

Ah yeah,

Her mother and her father, lordy,

They sure don't, sure don't allow me there.

Well I, I'm goin' back to my baby, lord I,

I swear I wouldn't lie, yeah

I never saw that sweet woman yeah in-a

A-five long years gone by, yeah.

Well I'm goin' home, I'm goin' home

'cause she's a sweet little darlin', ah

I said I been away, ahh-far too long,

I been away too long.

Take it jimmy!

Well, my baby when...

She shakes just like a willow tree,

Yes she does.

My baby, when she walks, ya know

She shakes like a willow tree, yeah.

Ah-that mean, mistreatin' baby she know she

Hop, hops all over me.

Oooh.

Yeah!

Alright!

Hops over me...

kontrol

Once a necessary accoutrement,

it hangs hidden, mounted

inside the door well,

an abandoned artillery shell,

naked, deprived of danger.

I slide my fingers

over the cold copper

and think how this veteran

must have doused the cinders.

Perhaps it had been a champion

on the front of a kitchen pyre

or a blitz on a stray cigar ember,

bottom up, in the bed linens.

The rubber hose now lays limp,

impotent at its side, corroded,

rusted from years of containment.

In flaccid abstinence, it stands,

loyal until the moment of truth,

when its soda-acid ejaculates,

like a horny soldier on fire.

willow, 2010

Since I squeezed my last week's Magpie in at the last minute, I thought I'd be early this week. You can't see from the image, but the brand name of the vintage fire extinguisher is "Kontrol", which I thought was an appropriate title for this piece.

To join this week's Magpie creative writing, click HERE.

dog days

I'll be the very first to admit I am heat intolerant. If temps rise above 75, I sweat, I swell, and sometimes, I even swear. I'm actually counting the days till woolly socks weather. We in Central Ohio have a respite today from the 90+ sweltering heat. It's currently a pleasant, although still hot in my book, 84 degrees. We were chatting at the manor this week about the oppressive heat and humidity in the Midwest and wondered how we ever managed back in our childhood days without air conditioning. But, you know, I don't remember feeling uncomfortably hot, because we were used to it. It was part of life.

In fact, our air conditioned generation has programmed itself to be completely intolerant of summer heat. (Especially me.) Our dear forefathers lived, farmed, fought wars, and fared well in this same heat. In old photos they all seem to be sporting hats and wool jackets in July. Back in the good old summer days, our neighborhoods were chock full of folks out on their front porches. We kids played ball in the street till dark. Now the 'hoods are literal ghost towns in the summer, everyone sealed up inside, with only the drone of the air conditioning units.

Not only has the increased use of air conditioning made us intolerant of the heat, and less sociable, it's contributed to a term known as "nature deficit disorder", the alleged trend that children are spending less time outdoors, resulting in a wide range of behavioral problems, including depression, anxiety and the long term ability to cope with stress and adversity. I was always big on chasing my kids out of the house, encouraging them to dig a hole, climb a tree, or just lie in the grass and look at the sky. Turns out, I was doing them a big favor.

Last, but not least, what about the massive consumption of power used to keep us cool and comfy in the summer. It's a strain on the power supply world wide. So, what's the answer? I, for one, am certainly not going to be first in line to volunteer to turn off my air. But, I did find a few practical summer tips from the Alliance to Save Energy:

1. A well-maintained cooling system will run more efficiently, use less energy, and lower energy bills.
2. Reduce the cooling load by effectively shading east and west windows. When possible, delay heat-producing activities such as dish washing until the evening. Close curtains during the day.
3. During the cooling season, keep your house closed tight in the daytime to keep unwanted heat and humidity out. If practical, ventilate at night either naturally or with fans.
4. Avoid running a dehumidifier at the same time as the AC. The dehumidifier will increase the cooling load and force the air conditioner to work harder.
5. Turn off your computer and monitor when you are done using them; activate the “sleep” feature so the machine powers down when on but not in use for a while.
6. Shift energy-intensive tasks such as laundry and dish washing to off-peak energy demand hours to increase electricity reliability during heat waves; do full loads when you run washers, dryers, and dishwashers.
7. Switch to cold water washing of laundry in top-loading, energy-inefficient washing machines to save energy and up to $63 a year—detergents formulated for cold water get clothes just as clean; clean the lint filter in your dryer after every load.
8. Keep lamps or TVs away from the air conditioner thermostat. The heat they generate will cause your air conditioner to run longer, running up bills unnecessarily.

By the way, did you know that the Romans referred to the "Dog Days" of summer as diēs caniculārēs and associated the hot weather with the star Sirius? They considered Sirius to be the "Dog Star" because it is the brightest star in the constellation Canis Major (Large Dog).

The old Farmer's Almanac lists the traditional timing of the Dog Days as the 40 days beginning July 3 and ending August 11.

So, keep cool in these doggy days, my friends. And don't forget to take your kids and grand kids to the park for a picnic. Let them hug a tree or two. As Martha would say, it's a good thing.

photo from google images

ethos

My true friends must be lovers
of tomatoes and onions.
They relish the bare mellow redness,
paired with the thrill of a hot bite.

All unfamiliar with the rush
of sun-warm fruit straight from the vine,
more liquid and coreless than Eve's apple,
are but mute strangers to me.

No mustard? No horseradish?
Walk on by; do not make a pass.
Celibacy of the senses
is an incompatible condition.
I cannot trifle with those
who refuse to taste life.



willow, 2010



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high as an elephant's eye

Blue Door Antiques, Sunbury, OH. (Closed. Darn.)

I know. All of you are probably thinking I've fallen off the face of the earth. Forgive me, for it's been over a week since I've been round the bloggyhood . My daughter was home to Willow Manor for a rare week-long visit, so I've shopped till I dropped, staying up to the wee hours listening to all the latest gossip, eating like a complete pig, and participating in wicked killer Scrabble championships. I guess you could say I was making rather merry.

However, like the dutiful blogger, I did take a few photos to share. We visited our favorite sellers of all things vintage this week, including the largest antiques dealer in the Midwest, the massive Heart of Ohio Antique Center, as well as shops in the villages of Powell, Sunbury, and Delaware, Ohio.

The corn in my neck of the woods is super lush this year from all the hot sun and rain; definitely high as an elephant's eye. The skies in Central Ohio were kind enough to give us a glorious display of what I like to call "N.C. Wyeth skies", or in keeping with the "high as an elephant's eye" corn, it was a glorious "oh, what a beautiful morning" Oklahoma kind of sky.

In addition to the ubiquitous corn fields, on our antiquing excursion, we passed wonderful old red barns, court houses in town squares, quaint gas station buildings now used for car repair, and an empty grain elevator, still in use, not for grain, but as a cell phone transmission tower, and last but not least, lots of proudly displayed American flags.

Clockwise: courthouse, Sunbury, OH; empty grain elevator outside Delaware, OH;
car repair shop in Delaware, OH; and a residence in Sunbury, OH.

E crossing the street in Delaware, OH, to Sandusky Street Antiques

So, did I find any goodies? I always find goodies. I like to keep my eye out for interesting pottery, mostly American, of course, although I do collect some West German, and actually found a nice piece of Waechtersbach in Powell, this week. (below, center) A quirky little Pigeon Forge, TN piece (left) found in Sunbury, and a mod aqua McCoy piece (right) waiting for me in Delaware....Ohio, that is. My daughter, E, has an excellent eye and loves to find all kinds of stylish, inexpensive stuff to take back to New York.

my loot from this week

It will take me a while to come down from my "elephant eye" high, but I'll be slowly making my way around to your particular street in the bloggyhood this week. First, I must write a little something about tomatoes for this week's Magpie Tales creative writing prompt. Click HERE to join in the fun! See you soon, my friends. xx

bury me beneath the willow

A folk song is what's wrong and how to fix it or it could be

who's hungry and where their mouth is or

who's out of work and where the job is or

who's broke and where the money is or

who's carrying a gun and where the peace is.

Woody Guthrie

My wickedly willow song series would be seriously lacking if it didn't include an all-American piece, and since this is 4th of July week, I though it very fitting to include Woody Guthrie's "Bury Me Beneath the Willow". Woodrow Wilson "Woody" Guthrie (July 14, 1912 – October 3, 1967) is best known as an American singer-songwriter and folk musician, whose musical legacy includes hundreds of political, traditional and children's songs, ballads and improvised works. He frequently performed with the slogan "This Machine Kills Fascists" displayed on his guitar. His best known song is "This Land Is Your Land", which is regularly sung in American schools. Many of his recorded songs are archived in the Library of Congress. Such songwriters as Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs and Tom Paxton have acknowledged their debt to Guthrie as an influence. (wiki)

I chose this version, sung by Alison Krauss and Lyle Lovett.

My heart is sad and I am lonely

For the only one I love

When shall I see her? Oh, no never

'Til we meet in Heaven above

Chorus

Oh bury me beneath the willow

Under the weeping willow tree

So she will know where I am sleeping

And perhaps she'll weep for me

She told me that she dearly loved me

How could I believe her untrue

Until the angels softly whispered

She will prove untrue to you

Tomorrow was our wedding day

Oh God, oh God, where can she be

She's out a-courting with another

And no longer cares for me

in the greenhouse

The lemon bushes overflowed
with the patter of mole paws,
the scythe shined
in its rosary of cautious water drops.

A dot, a ladybug,
ignited above the quince berries
as the snort of a rearing pony broke through,
bored with his rub-down—then the dream took over.

Kidnapped, and weightless, I was drenched
with you, your outline
was my hidden breath, your face
merged with my face, and the dark

idea of God descended
upon the living few, amid heavenly
sounds, amid childish drums,
amid suspended globes of lightning

upon me, upon you, and over the lemons...




In the Greenhouse by Eugenio Montale
translated by Charles Wright

I was introduced to Eugenio Montale, 1975 Nobel Laureate, by the lovely Merisi, who often posts his work on her blog. Unfortunately, I don't speak Italian, the original language in which he composed, so a bit of the magic is lost. But, even translated into English, his poetry is marvelous. I found a little soft cover book of his poetry the last time I visited my favorite little second hand bookshop; you know, the one with the creaky hardwood floors.

photo from google images

old-school spy

Have you been following the story about the Russian spy, Anna Chapman? It's old-school spy stuff, just like out of a Bond movie. She's a beautiful 28 year old divorcee, who has been living it up in New York, allegedly running an online real estate company worth $2 million.

She was instructed to hold a magazine a certain way to signal the other spy to initiate contact.

Following are among the phrases used by the alleged agents, their handlers and, deceptively, by U.S. counter-espionage officials in exchanges designed to verify the contact's identity.

"Excuse me, but haven't we met in California last summer?"

"No, I think it was the Hamptons."

"Could we have met in Beijing in 2004?"

"Yes, we might have, but I believe it was in Harbin"

"Excuse me, did we meet in Bangkok in April last year?."

"I don't know about April, but I was in Thailand in May of that year."

Chapman was arrested before her mission was complete.

(Gosh, they didn't even use my personal favorite code phrase, "the green grass grows all around, all around".)

Beginning as early as 2000, the accused spies were watched meeting on benches in Central Park and Brooklyn, plotting in a Queens restaurant, exchanging computer files wirelessly in a Times Square Starbucks, smoothly switching bags in the Forest Hills, Queens, Long Island Rail Road station and burying money in the ground upstate.

The old-school cloak and dagger techniques are still successful in the spy world. The top five espionage technologies that are still very much in use are invisible ink, shortwave radio, burst transmissions (a subset of radio transmissions), number stations (a broadcast of seemingly meaningless number sequences), and transposition ciphers (codes that systematically scramble the order of letters in a message).

fourth

Watermelon juice
turns toes blood red,
black seeds spit
like June bugs, dead.

Chicken legs,
wax paper covered
deviled eggs
on back porch
newsprint table spread.

Croquet weapons,
badminton birds,
mosquito bite wounds,
scratched and bled.

Lidded jars of fireflies,
and sparklers scorch
our tired skies, until
a course of giant stars

stirs bursting pride,
to fight the heart,
force bias out
and melt the hate,

like ice cream
on a sultry plate.



willow, 2009

Best wishes

for a safe and happy 4th of July

from Willow Manor!

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