scribblettes 8.0

ennui
for me
today
i'll stay
in bed.



visual grandeur
and your
vicious rhetoric
make my heart tick

The Rain

The rain is coming down with a vengeance. It hasn’t rained for a couple of weeks, and I think the sky got tired of holding it back. Texas has been beautiful since Easter. The wildflowers are blooming along the highway. First the bluebonnets, then the Indian paintbrushes, the Indian blankets, and the sunflowers. They’re just starting to fade away. Yesterday was the hottest day so far this year. It got up to almost 85 and even a t-shirt was sticky. But then today the massive Texas sky had enough. It’s too hard to hold it all back for that long. I think the Texas sky and I are in agreement. Sometimes it’s just too much to keep from raining. Even though everything is wonderful and the wildflowers are blooming, there is that small thing that keeps growing and growing until it is suddenly unbearable. And then, of course, the sky opens up. It pours out for an hour or so until it goes just as quickly as it came. It drips off the eaves of the house until finally there is nothing left to drip. That is all. Then there is nothing left. The sky builds up for another week or two and then it lets loose again. It is a cycle. Sometimes in Texas it won’t rain for months on end. That’s the drought. Everyone says you have to “conserve” and they have specific times you can water. I guess it’s like that for everything. I’m conserving right now. There just isn’t time for rain.

scribblettes 7.0

The man in the park
named the squirrel Bob.
What a sad name
for a slob.



Maybe a baby
Maybe a mom
I give up.
Nothing rhymes with mom.



A man stuck his tongue out at me
from his car window.
I think it is plenty time
for him to go.



I'll take a boat to England,
maybe a plane.
Either way, the poets say,
it all ends up the same.
(with regards to some song I heard one time)



I lost myself a year ago,
I knew not where I went;
I since have learned
I had returned,
my money all been spent.



"I know," you said,
but do you really?
It doesn't seem to
be the same as you though.
Yeah, little do you wot.

am i what i seem?

Am I what I seem?
I look in the mirror and see:
blonde (today); Caucasian;
got too much sun yesterday afternoon.

At school perhaps I am
"blonde English major;
likes tacos."
Is that all?

When dancing am I only
"blonde (today) lindyhopper,
quirky, and a follow."
Is that all?

At the store I am
what I am
wearing;
nothing more.

Or am I none of these, or all
of them, or somewhere
in between, or am I just
exactly what I seem?

"Please don't feed the humans."

"Please don't feed the humans,"
the sign outside the
human ground reads.

The ducks pay no mind;
they disturb the naturally-
habitating picnickers,

seducing them with tricks
while the human children
eat their sandwiches.

"Look at me," the gander cries
as the the goose glares subtly
behind his back.

"Come see our fountain," they say,
urging them outside their fence.
Fortunately, human children aren't that tall.