Literature

“I’m quite illiterate, but I read a lot.” Holden Caulfield

Kindle me

to sleep at night

with words of escape

imprison me

send me from cell to cell

with your chapters

packed full of defeats

and promises

each character a splice

of an unfolding humanity

Literature

Ode to Mismatched Socks

All mismatched socks go in a bag

(evidence that I have given up the task)

I wear the individuals until there are holes

then throw them away

occasionally

buried in the bag

is a pair

long departed from each other

and I rejoice

they are together again

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dVerse prompt on laundry. Here’s to the missing socks that went down the drain and didn’t get in this poem.

Ode to Mismatched Socks

My Inglenook

No conversation in my quarantine

Read a good book

Tell a wild tale about how it will end

Gobbledygook

I go to a place i feel safe and warm

My inglenook

Irregardless of my disappointment

There is a way to sit pray and lament

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dVerse prompt on “inglenook” quadrille and I threw in a cavatina

My Inglenook

Fish in Jamestown Harbor

There are fish in the water so the fishermen put out their boats, night and day. The nets bring a haul, both large and small, and when the boat is full, it is pulled ashore and the fish are released onto land in baskets and buckets. Some are smoked right on the beach, while others are spiced and fried. Who knows where the rest of the fish go.

The Jamestown Fishing Harbor Project has began with the demolition of existing structures at the site of the Chinese funded $60 million Jamestown Fishing Harbor Complex. There will be dredging of 118,000 cubic meters in the harbor basin and shipping channels; construction of hydraulic structures, seawall, a breakwater, and supporting facilities including a fish market and a processing area. Who knows where the rest of the people will go.

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dVerse prompt on boat. On May 21, 2020, the demolition of over 400 temporary and permanent structures occurred at Jamestown fishing community. Is this neocolonialism or a move to benefit the Ghanaian people?

Photo taken in Jamestown in September 2019.

Fish in Jamestown Harbor

Picking Cotton

MEMORIES of cotton picking days

picked along with men and women

all over the South

people of all colors

fourteen footer dragged behind

filled with cotton

picked from each boll

start when you’re old enough

to hold a sack

sang in harmony

as we picked

infant scooting behind

too small to pick

“cotton on the roadside

cotton in the ditch

we all picked cotton

but we never got rich”

_____________

photo from SMU Degolyer Library

Picking Cotton

A Review of Groceries Delivered

Searching on the website

like going down each aisle

I want this— out of stock

I want chips— not a healthy choice

I want pantry foods— ones that keep

red lentils

split peas

garbanzo beans

make a soup— better than canned

make the order Sunday night

Monday 7 am

the joy of groceries delivered

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NaPoWriMo prompt to write a review. My experience with online grocery shopping. I miss going down the aisles of the grocery store but this will have to do.

A Review of Groceries Delivered

Dystopic Thinking

Dystopic thinking today

as I work in the garden, contemplating Voltaire.

How has education

brought me to this point

of doubting all that I know?

History is not repeating itself.

How can this pandemic

be compared to the Spanish Flu of 1918?

We know so much more but do little.

Communication is faster

so what is going on in Italy

I can know right now.

In Spain the same. Now the US.

But look at the geography.

Look at the size of countries

and compare it to US.

Italy is smaller than Washington State.

How can there be comparisons?

The one common factor is

that the disease spreads quickly.

Test- track-and isolate. Too late.

The microbe is loose.

By accident or design?

Nobody knows or somebody knows.

Maybe we will never know.

What we do know is

that staying home keeps us safe.

Not everyone can stay home

so in Italy

there are still new cases regardless of a lockdown.

People have to go out to get food.

Whole families die at home.

After a month of staying at home,

groceries delivered and sterilized,

no outside visits,

I can’t say that I am lonely or stir crazy.

I like to stay home.

But what would it be like without internet,

without the food supply,

without air conditioning and lights?

In the winter, what if there was no heat?

What if there was no gas

to keep the car going if I wanted to relocate,

live in the mountains, hunt for food?

Are we being tossed back

into the Neanderthal of life

or just a temporary bleep in the radar

of what we always thought was progress?

Too many questions and who cares

what the answer is.

I find answers to be too dystopic.

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NaPoWriMo prompt to write 20 minutes spontaneous writing and make it a poem.

Dystopic Thinking