The dark eyes of Sandler Boggs


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Empty containers heading home

their eyes flapping with

each drop of rain

each eye

slightly off center

slightly off cadence

each one unique

but the same

keeping time

to an unheard band

whose drummer

loud crashing

used pyrotechnics

and rumbling bass drums

to shatter eardrums

and inside the cocoons

the last thing the caterpillar saw

as it climbed inside

with Starbucks

and XM Radio

to emerge on the other side

a butterfly

not bound by rules

a desk

a phone

for safe inside its cocoon

the change could occur

and the drummer never noticed

never paused

as the eyes blinked

and the butterfly flew away.

 

,doc

The horrible laughter of Norse Kings


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Too little rain falls

to little

to

little

rain

falls

each drop

a perfection

of water

pollutants

fetid

dying

snowflakes

throw from the castle

of the Norse king

to die

falling to earth

a million miles

the thunderous voices of the

Valkyrie

as they skirmish with the lost

children of yesterday

and the dreams of tomorrow

each falling with the rain

fetid rain

dying

decaying snowflakes

once perfection

once unique

now one of many

the same

and the Norse kings laugh…

 

.doc

In the hallway the women bustle to and fro, because its raining and THEY CAN’T GO OUTSIDE.


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Spring has shown its whimsical head in Indiana today – yesterday it was 21 degrees at the oh-so-dark-30 time I got up. Today it was 49 degrees at the same time in the AM – but the sky has sprung a horrible leak and so we are back to an Indiana spring. Rain, followed by thunderstorms, tornadoes and of course more rain. Its been that way ever since I can recall. (actually I moved away once and that was a contributing factor then – I suspect it will be again in my next move away). Indiana is family now – but the weather downside is pretty bad. I don’t mind a wet spring after all April Showers bring May flowers (or the Mayflower but that doesn’t bring bright festive colors it simply brings pilgrims).

It it another dreary stay indoors Indiana season (late fall around November to Jan, then again March to May) that makes it so hard to enjoy the world outside your safe and warm house. Also looming over the weather watcher in Indiana is of course the old adage that winter’s last gasp is always right around the boy’s basketball sectional tournament. Basketball being one of the measures of Hoosierdom.

So back to my quiet office in the corner of the house where thunder does not pierce and rain dares not tread. Back to the silence of music and the joy of my keyboard clacking. Away from the rain lest I become like Lady Macbeth cursing the “damn spots” left my rain on my soul. Struggling to wash them out and leave them for another to deal with rather than facing them. “Out damn rain” the mutter as I wander around inside seeking egress or at least somewhere else to go. Its not that I hate rain, for in normal quantities it is quite fun to go outside and stand there soaking your skin in the primordial juice from whence we came.  Its more that like in Seattle I find the dark skies and gloomy days to become my mood. An extension of where I am as a human being rather than simply one less day outside.

Rain, Rain go away. Frankly, if you could change your pattern please come back to hit my lawn at night, and keep the farmer’s happy but when it is daylight outside let me actually see the sun!

Yours in darkness;

 

.doc