dwindling days, and nights lengthening.
tis that time of year for cuddling.
warmth in demand as cold and snow
approach and threatening.
have been reading some more
Charles Bukowski and will need
my poor brain rejuvenated
and a thorough cleaning,
setting me on road to recovery.
but I'll be back, reading more
Charles Bukowski because
doing so is like a swift keep
in the ass, getting up and over
those dreaded boring ways and times.
she is in other room making supper.
I'm in here pretending to be a poet
and an artist. and the wants and needs
of community
a crow on a pole
watching me watching it.
and neither of us
has the get up and go
to get up and get gone.
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