grandfather just told me he too hopes them aliens


from some more steady sun stone will come round

and collect at the very least the pair of us

first greet us beneath the dry cluster of white pine

in all that his great acreage

(of which I got my first night tour this month ten years ago in rain)

we found shelter beneath them godly trees seven or eight

turned out that kerosene lamp we favored

and his cigar was drifting there familiar

them aliens would take us from north a springville and the dark

I remember I asked him if they’d have time enough

to search the wood for Buckwheat

He said they’d make time for Buckwheat findin’

and too whatever family a coon he had treed there out in the night

would you go with them I would.

wouldn’t have much of a choice would you.

Buckwheat treed a family and one loner

Dog barked up no wrong trees that night ten years ago in all rain.





birthday as we try

to keep our chins off of the brim

of parents’ porcelain

when no more teen age

i’d hit the road with you

til it’s black eyed and tooth loosened

until then

walmart, taciturn down your light is grating

all my eggshell space

or compensate for venetian blinds double dating there above my sill

as adult I will sue the life from your

astral beacon could afford

to keep us afloat for a while