June 30, 2016




There’s this effing coughing guy.

Coughing his damn fool sick mucoused  head.

Here he’s right  behind me.

I’d bet half the health insurance check I’ll need

He’ll reject  deflecting all that sick  and

He has No manners to lift up that handy hefty hand.

He keeps coughing, this jerk,

&  me with three hours  of work

&  then I’m free,  or start to be.

When I reach my  muy  private beach…

Known for its   internal tune up  sun

Its eternal straightline horizon


Three hours and It’s a Go

Leave this stress that  god I know

This thing with coughing threatens  “No”


September 2, 2015

Settling  into  some  rest

I’m sitting on my brother’s back deck

The setting is the Great Northwest

I’m betting I’d best be getting a call in

For the Jaws of Life to  rework   this wreck


August 30, 2012

this is retrieved from years ago, it showcases a damn fine vacation, one I am about to repeat, starting tomorrow. I thought I’d reprint it to mark a “time out” sign here. See ya in a coupla weeks.




I’d say Seattle’s a city that’ll likely

Set you so free that you’ll likely

Be reminded of the high flight where you might just

Find me,  plowing clouds way way above the bird play.

I see Seattle as a solution

Not too much a town to touch down to w/

Warm outstretched arms on a runway

To catch a wretched, falling runaway,

A getaway  on holiday.


II.     W A K E

“Guests must remain on the patio”

Insisted the sign in a winded sun.

I read it right there  in my Adirondack chair

On a cliff  so clearly steep.

I feel I might have fallen  deep

Narcoleptically Asleep again, Though surely,

The luringly named

Pacific Ocean below

Drew me here, to it’s  wake up here

This pace  maker  peace

could liven this



There’s this tree, I took three pictures there.

A tree creatively crooked

& pointing down most of the Oregon coastline.

At least three pictures.

It rather weathervaned  the ocean edge

& pointed, as a staggeringly lovely hag

might with her stick. A crow

lights in her hair, & All of it

blown forward

down the edge.

seattle09 032


Winter winds could
only find us cold
on our old
and ancient porch
perched high here in our new air
searching here through our new words
The latest launch on,
off this roof porch in
an old haunt,
this chilly sleepy village,
Off this nest

thanx Cedar Key