A is for April, Akimbo, Alka-Seltzer & All’s Well That End’s Well

It’s still raining. We had to go to Hawaii to get away from it and in all honesty, it was really hard to come back. Wait, it was hard to come back last year, too. And the year before that, well, the Nuclear Winter wasn’t exactly a picnic, either.

Wait for it, wait for the bite!

So here we are, bundled in sweaters in huddling indoors with our stews and sauces and burning wax fires in the lovely Pacific Northwest. The fruiting bodies of a hundred and one aromatic shrooms are blooming in the moldy cavities of my snot-stanky flora-ridden sinuses. Sorry. TMI.

Oh, effing, well. This is why we have distilled beverages and basketball, is it not?

Yup, it is April, after all. Poetry month. Birthday Month. How lovely. I’m a couple of days behind, sort of (I’m sitting on a phone book of unpublished poems). But the challenge of a poem-a-day gets me more worked up than a sea slug on steroids. My challenge for today is to write a palindrome poem — Amore, Roma!

“Cigar? Toss it in a can. It is so tragic.”

But first, here’s a touch o’ the Spring Madness.

Oh, and here’s a super cool contest from Crazy Horse!

Riotous Spring

 A Swainson’s thrush is freaking out somewhere
in the pine forest. It is something like a one-man-band
of birdsong that will give you pause. A concert flutist on
acid, letting go, having a really good time out in the woods.
Have you ever heard one? Here in the so-called “temperate”
forest (which, when translated from some
native language means means ‘chilled to the bone’)
Swainson’s is the only woodland thrush whose song
rises in pitch, as the pitch rises. Spring is truly an occasion
here, after two full years of winter. Get ready, here it comes,
a blooming orgy of pistils, petals, birdsong and pollen.
Sunlight is yet fleeting. Bullying storm clouds hover and
yet we remain hopeful, the anticipation almost unbearable,
in a sense psychotic, this eagerness for birdsong, for light,
for rising earth, for soft, slow days, for drinks on the patio,
the perfect putt, blooming dogwoods, blue sky, and last
but not least, warmth without smoke and fire.

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Shanna Germain
    Apr 05, 2011 @ 01:09:37

    Love it. Love you.

    Reply

  2. sensualafflictions
    Apr 05, 2011 @ 02:15:04

    Heart you, Friend!

    Reply

  3. Craig Sorensen
    Apr 05, 2011 @ 07:51:01

    Excellent! You’ve captured the essence of spring.

    Reply

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