Great title, loved the read, Lavonne.

Could this bit

Halos
mossy trees.

come right after the sun?

American sentence:

Faces in the cornfield, Philo told his mom, there's something to that.

I see faces in the rocks.  Please tell Philo for me.  Ask me what he thinks?

for the Found Poetry file:

currently downloading
the human genome
to my computer.

The file is big,
the progress bar
moves slowly...

The Pleasure of Preparing Collard Greens

Ah, the eagerness
that the
chlorophyll smell
of broken, rubbery
leaves of collards releases
into the air!
 
The torn leaves
are washed
three times; a charm
that releases sand.
then chiffanade the lot.

In the mother-in-law's
black iron pan, slick
with fifty years
of seasoning,
fatback sizzles.
Once rendered
slivered onions
and a few
sliced jalapenos
add robustness.
Then into the pot
and topped
with mounds
of greens.

Flavors fill the air
and the fresh green
smell mellows
into something full
and buttery.

A little salt,
a little pepper,
hours later,
he tells me
they're
damn good.

I raise a glass
to that which surrounds me,
he who has stayed,
those we created,
and
whatever will come.

there is a glass bottom to my stomach
and beneath it
the good poetry floats.
tapping, tapping, and sometimes pounding
but cracks never appear

American sentence:

Cold outside, sweaters and hats in bed; cold inside, the warmth of you gone.

American sentence:

Now's immediacy, too much; sounds equalize, you're lost in the hum.

I'm sitting in
an interview chair
and across the desk
sits Clevon Little
asking questions
and smiling that smile.
I can swear I see
the gleam.
Then I throw back
the covers and sit up quick.
I know what has happened.
He farted.

Declining a friend's soup recipe-a telephone conversation



Oh, I love to cook.
--
Yeah, from scratch.
--
Almost every night.
--
Gosh, I have hundreds of cookbooks.
--
No, thanks.
--
Cause, it's just not something
I'd ever make. I mean,
no matter how you fancy it up;
it's still tomato soup

and
some things are good
right out of the can.

                          Need
Want                                              Want
Sex                                                 Love
Sex and/or Love            Love and/or Sex
                           Sex
                    Love and Sex
                           Love
Need                                              Need
                          Want
                         

Something I danced, no doubt

lemon merengue
salsa and dips
a moment in the air
forever in the hips

Snowman

After sweating at his job
for three days
He just toppled over
Monday morning. About 10 AM.

My cats,
benign time-wasters,
lure me into their warp
until dinner time
We are all hungry now.