They are painting buildings,
constructing new roads,
expanding old ones
which once lead home.

Ancient trees
are being brutally slaughtered,
without second thoughts
to what they've endured.

The couple down the road,
been married for forty years
just called it quits
because they discovered the internet.

Individuality is being mass produced,
while the cotton fields are burning
and the wildlife is losing ground.
I woke up lost in familiarity.

Mid day heat shimmers
Over a close cut hay field
In heart of summer

Beneath a large oak
Biting breaths of soggy air
July in the south

Dew spangled dawn
Disappears after sunrise
Becomes humid air

Bird pants on deck rail
In the late afternoon heat
craving cooler days

that must be why i work
my fingers to the bone, the judgment,
it will fall heavy later
among the politicians, popes and poets,
the greedy men and empty grass,
leaves of mud and women; like me
always on their knees-
who only tried to love as
you loved

solicitude is hard but
you're harsher

next time we're together, please
put me to work or set me loose in a crowd
where romance doesn't fit or isn't apt
and unresponsively, I'll promise you
i won't learn a thing from it

I take my meds
To clear my head
But, my sadness lingers
As I sit upon, my dozy bed

I progress to stay ahead
Of the active dead
But, my joy declines
As I push through, the heavy dread

What shall I do, to remove the fright?
That makes me gripe
Where’s the joy that keeps me well?
As I walk obscurity toward the light

Like a woodpecker in the early morning
Triggering my drowsy moaning
I’m feeling morose and unresponsive
As I travel this lone road of loathing