::07:24:08::

::: Growing Pumpkins in July :::

Does it choose you?
A new chapter
Or in life since October
The beard gone, cut,
Filled an entire
Ziploc freezer bag
Just to know how much
Time spent growing
Grey wires for bird nests
And how silly it looks in
A freezer bag

I let me go to the wind
Empty the bag
Walk back to the kitchen
And speak to my coffee Mike
Sad Florida Mike
Went to the zoo,
Wal-Mart with Paul Marcel
Yet no family friends
Not knowing what the hell
The dream’s all about
My father his father’s father
Unclogging a toilet like a beaver
Building a damn in reverse
Overgrown with the ancient
World trees
Where the roots are
Our arms and legs and
Daughters
That must be extracted
From the bowels
Of porcelain blood centuries

Eons I cut through eons
While my father carries away
The root and the lightening bug
Gone early June’s gone
Landing flittery on
My reflective shades
As they walk around
The bounce of last night’s
Storm of felled trees
In the village
As the invisible man
I can still see the grass growing
Between the cross
Of my stone toes
Of my backyard life
About to end
And I can still see
My motorcycle boots
On the black propylene matt
Next to the heavy
Victorian door
Locking me in
And Mike
I have nothing left
To say
About it.

Written by: ~ J.D. Szalla

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